Wading in the Velvet Sea

1) Women love nothing more than to take down one of their kind.

No kidding. We men are told by psychologists, the media, and all of female-dom that we are the beasts, the insensitive ones, cruel and unfeeling to the point that natural selection will eventually run its’ course and wipe us off the planet. But, for sheer vindictiveness, cunning, and malice, women do more to each other then we men ever could. This is why I have been repeatedly accused of implementing a plot so complex that I wasn’t even mentally capable of deriving in the first place---women just assume that every trick at their disposal is somehow within our grasp as well. If women ran the world, Amazon-style, the world would be reduced to utter chaos, because Senator Charlene would borrow Representative Tammy’s make-up kit one day, and by the end of the week, Tammy would be besmirched as a no good little skank, Charlene would have amassed the South in the ‘Great Eyeliner Debate’, and we men, shackled to our couches, lulled into compliance with 17 stations showing different forms of SportsCenter, would still have that befuddled look of ‘How the hell did this happen?’ as women storm in and out of the room, occasionally yelling at us about something Judy did, which, to our feeble minds, doesn’t seem like that big of a deal. Five minutes later, we men will have forgotten the whole thing.

2) Women clean up guys and make us socially presentable.

Well, except for me, I of the 4 day beard shadow. But it’s like Chris Rock said in ‘Bring the Pain’, women clean you up, get you wearing nice clothes again, get the crust out of your eye, and pretty soon you’re vaguely humanoid again. When you’re single, the temptation to let it all go is astounding. You’re apartment resembles the ‘after’ scene is most ‘What to Do in Case of Tornado’ videos they show in Midwestern grade schools. You pick your clothes by virtue of their distance from the floor in the pile you’ve amassed in the corner of your room, next to the out-of-order stack of Maxim you’ve treated yourself to since, hey, it’s not like we need to spend it on those girls who won’t call us back! So you go to a bar, half-shaven, shirt untucked, ketchup stain on your jeans, and you wonder why the girl didn’t go for you doing the invisible lasso technique from across the bar.

3) Men are simply more confident when dating someone, and chicks dig confidence.

And yes, I picked the word ‘chicks’ intentionally, because the line between ‘confident’ and ‘arrogant’ is thinner than a sideways view of Calista Flockheart. As documented previously on this site, I never had more women just plain asking to get naked with me than when I was dating someone during my senior year of college and the year afterwards. It’s like they simply couldn’t wait to have their clothes off. And the more I acted like I didn’t want them, the more they came on to me. Second only to Ja Rule’s popularity, this is something I’ll never understand. But in theory, it’s pretty simple. Confidence breeds a virtual pheromone that women (and men) can pick up downwind roughly 5 miles away. And since men (and women) without a dating partner generally lack the confidence of someone already taken, it’s natural that the mojo gets tied up with those for whom mojo isn’t really a necessary element anymore. When I was single, I was on the prowl, and women sensed it, and instinctively, you don’t want what you know you can get. But once I didn’t need them anymore, then the ‘I want what I can’t have’ principle kicks in like Pele. They may not want you for their boyfriend, just a sloppy kiss, a one-night stand, whatever, because again, once they get you, they don’t want you. A vicious cycle, indeed.

Any additions? Thoughts? Rebuttals?