First off, let’s be perfectly clear: I’m not a dating coach!
Never have been one, never will be. Alright?
However, comma, for us grown-azz men, us so-called Red Pill aware connoisseurs of cooch, I pose a serious question: When did paying to play become so common place?
When did this become part of the game
Forget just wasting time (our most precious manly resource that women covet like a brand new pair of shoes) on the mere pursuit of the opposite sex. Now it’s cool to openly admit to whore mongering—especially among us international travelers—as if it’s just a friendly Sunday morning pick-up game at the basketball court.
Now as always, there’s an exception to the rule. If a man’s on the come up, struggling through, let’s say, law school or medical school, a little light tricking is expected. For him, if he’s careful not to get caught up in over spending, leased vagina is the economical option during those academic years.
Another rationale would be the successful man who’s accomplished his goals, his dreams. See, this is the one who must manage his time 24/7. In his world of either high finance, real estate mogul, accountant or even small business owner (truck drivers earn mad money, too), wasting precious time on a woman, fine or not, is counterproductive to his bottom line.
So, hell yeah, renting a head nurse for the evening fits perfectly into his tight schedule. Hence, neither of these prime examples never waste time or money on women.
But what about the rest of us
Yeah, the rest of us whom are still on our grind. Don’t get it twisted. We’re just as committed to reaching our highest heights as well but for some reason are too impatient to ride out our collective storm.
So, let’s bring in the usual suspects, the women whom play way too many games, requiring us to jump through numerous hoops for an implied product that has neither a warranty nor a money back guarantee. Yeah, we know how it goes down, gents, don’t we?
Whether after a couple of dates (what I highly recommend) or during the ups and downs of a long-term relationship, women, by their own nature, will try us on the typical bullshiiid.
She could’ve just texted BRING THAT BIG THING OVER, SO I CAN TAKE CARE OF IT.
And then, after running three red light, two stop signs and one donut-eating cop, we arrived at our location of Miss. Bait and Switch. She not only changes her mind about slobbering on the
knob ‘till complete satisfaction but dangles the promise of possible sex later on into the evening if we act right.
Not ph*cking vs can’t ph*cking
As the late, great Patrice O’Neal frequently stated in his standup about dealing with women and their ways, “I don’t mind not ph*cking! I just don’t like CAN’T ph*cking!”
Now for those whom are arriving late to the lecture, here’s the list of Lame Excuses for Holding the Pearl Hostage:
I’m just not in the mood anymore. Sorry. Wanna watch Lifetime with me?
We’ve just met (although she’s already half naked), and I have to get to know you.
You just look like a womanizer.
I have to be in love with a man before I have sex with him.
You haven’t taken me out on a real date yet, just coffee.
Although I’m not a virgin, I’m waiting until marriage.
It’s a sin.
I’m on my period.
Now that last one is the most pathetic of the infamous pearl hostage list. Like they didn’t know they were on their monthly cycle before asking us to come through?
There’s far more to list, and I know you gents know them. But let’s keep the class moving forward, shall we?
Like I stated at the beginning of this blog, I’m not a relationship expert. I’m just dropping these jewels to the Brotherhood (the younger generation as well as us old heads), ensuring our survival when dealing with the adult female species.
Us up! Them (edit here, as you seem fit, gents) down!
I mean, it really saddens me to see how many of us continue to take L’s from women. And, for the most part, they’re not even high-quality but basic chicken heads—some educated, some not—whom neither know how to be feminine enough to attract a man nor keep one.
But what do we do about it now
What we men can do to combat this is to personally develop and maintain a set of standards for ourselves. Yes, standards.
And we have to stick to them like the Biblical Ten Commandments.
In our case, it’ll be the Ten Anti-Simp Commandments:
1. I shall put myself first always and forever (if this one makes you think of that Heatwave song, I apologize in advance).
2. I shall strive for self-improvement daily.
3. I shall save and invest money wisely.
4. I shall exercise my body daily (see AS Commandment 2)
5. If he’s willing with the right mindset, I shall teach my wayward Brothers about Red Pill awareness and the lifestyle.
6. I shall not hate on another man success.
7. I shall not count another man’s pockets.
8. I shall not d*ck police on the women my Brothers deal with.
9. I shall not c*ck block on my Brothers.
10. I shall not simp on any women, regardless of how fine her body is and/or how much she says she loves me.
Trust and live by these rules, and we’ll all come out on top. Remember, it’s not about her. It’s about you.
Marcus love is a published author. You can scoop up his most recent Broke and Ashy urban eNovella series at an Amazon Kindle near you.