June 30, 2009
They day someone explains me why do men like to be abused by women I think this blog will make no more sense. Therefore, I really hope this male race fetish for bitches never ends.
Last night, while chatting with a very good friend, we both concluded that some women (particularly Latinas) are so ballsy that the poor men had to congregate and founded what I like to call: The Sons of Maltreatment’s Coalition (S.M.C.)
Fuck! When we want to, we can be real malevolent human beings. We calculate every word, premeditate our moves and manipulate the results as we better wish to.
But we’re not all the same. There are some that are dumber. Some that rather is the princess of the story. Some that cross all the lines and bend so much that they can even see our cracks.
Who’s right? God only knows! And that’s a bitch. Because for us, the Daughters of the Dumbasses, it is super hard to understand how come a man rather please a bitch’s whim than have a good time with a cool, low-key, loyal girl. Yeah right!
For the record, I need to admit that I have always felt admiration (and even a bit of respect) for those bitches. Even more so, because they do know how to keep a man interested. And how wouldn’t they if it’s pretty clear by now that they’re hunters and we’re just their catch?
Up to here it’s all pretty clear to me. It’s actually a given. I even understand how it works in their hunting world. But somehow, I can’t manage to digest how the hell to make sure they’ll stick to your bones and not to the first cutlet, wing, boneless breast or supersized combo that may appear in their way.
Well, according to my Hindu friend (one of the smartest men I’ve ever know) all this is possible if we understand how “The Curve” works. A very colorful graphic designed over a tablecloth at a French restaurant after having a couple of bottles of champagne, of course. (See illustration above)
“As you can see in my first chart, you need to understand that men are always sexually attracted. So, at the beginning, their interest will go all the way to the top of the chart. They’re not thinking. They’re not feeling. They just want to fuck. Until they get you in bed. If your interest for him rises at the same time, you’ll reach the top together, which is not so bad. And then you have sex. And there is when you have to stay cool. Cause his interest goes down immediately right after. It’s men’s nature. And yours will go up and up. It’s women’s nature. And there is the problem. Interest starts growing in opposite directions. So you’re fucked. Cause he’ll come back for more sex for sure. But, if you show too much interest (romantically), he may get scared/bored. So, never show too much interest and you both can be on the same page (as seen on my second chart). I’d say, just set the bar low from the get-go. Make him wonder whether you like him or not”, he explained with that accent that makes everything sounds like a “turu duru turu”.
“BINGO! So, what this means is that all we need play the ‘I’m not that into you’ game with them? I asked. “More or less”, answered the Hindu. “Me cago en la puta que los parió”, I refuted after spilling my glass of champagne all over drawing.
Do they want to drive me crazy of what! If you show too much interest, they get scared. And if you don’t, they get bored. And on top of it, there’s always one more slut than you ready to take over. So go figure!
This dating game is not my thing. Never been. Never will. I have it pretty clear by now. It’s like my psycho-vaginal therapist told me not too long ago: “You have two options: either you play the game and become Cinderella in the fucking window or you wait for the one that’s sick of games. By then, stupidity won’t enter into your radar, which would decrease the probability of you running into an asshole”.
God bless this woman’s brains, and her eloquent way of being elegantly sarcastic. A natural talent that only the gifted ones got. And G. is one of them. No doubt about it.
Anyway, going back to the S.M.C. and the fucking “Curve”, I must recall the story of my friend, the one who’s stronger that hate. She’s a very sweet, feminine woman, with a freaking bad temper. And I guess that’s probably why we’re so close. “From a ballsy girl to another one…” I thought when I met her.
Oh well, Lina it’s a pretty cool chick. Smart, beautiful and very nice. But she always has the same ending. She meets guys that are much younger than her, want nothing but fun and end up leaving her for a bitch. Of those that never pick up the phone nor will change their Facebook status to: “In a relationship” to save their lives.
Meanwhile, we, the Daughters of Dumbasses, are already taking pictures of the new man, tagging them and feeling so proud when the whole world asks: “New boyfriend?”
The difference between them and us it’s pretty clear. They wait until they tired of them, while we never quit until we get sick of ourselves. Because that’s the way it goes, my friends.
Sometimes, we’re so controlling that we don’t stop insisting until they wander about (in front of us!) with their new victim. Some of us even become their Kleenex, where they stick their buggers after crying out loud their heart pains. “How is it going with your new girlfriend?” we ask with a cute smile.
Ay! How much it sucks when the come back to you with a: “You know, I’m not sure if she likes me as much as I like her. Still doesn’t kiss me on the lips nor introduces me as her boyfriend. What should I do to convince her? Maybe after a weekend at The Keys...”
Arghhhhh! “How about spending a weekend at your motherfucker grandma, son of a bitch!”. That’s what you feel like responding, right? Clearly. But who the fuck told us to be the cool, best friend forever, psychoanalyst in the first place, huh? And I say: “Swallow it, girlie”. Like my dad says: “If you bend too much, they’ll see it”. I guess he’s talking about the crack. Not sure, though. But he’s right.
But in the middle of this sons and daughter’s storm, I was able to see the shore. I’ve learnt something else about myself (and about my friend Lina, of course): if men like to be maltreated, who are we to turn that passion off? Let’em take it! ¡Y a tomar por el culo!, like my dearest Spanish friends would say.
But, girls, please don’t loose perspective. Cause the one that really loves you will never play any game. Not even for the sake of enjoying watching you please or begging them. You wont have to do a shit. Because everything flows. Like a paper boat would on the Ganges River.
Whether we fuck “The Curve” or not, it’s a very personal thing. Time has taught me that there are no foolproof formulas in love. Each person has its own formula. And there are no self-help books nor psychic that will tell you when he’ll call you again.
While all of you decide how the hell you want to live your love life, I’m still trying to figure out how to merchandise this “Curve”. Fuck, it’s too good to give it away for free. Don’t you think?
Regarding the Sons of Maltreatment Coalition, what else can I say? If it wasn’t for men like that, what the fuck will women do with their free time? And even worse, who the fuck would I write about?
Diva Silente ©
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