No story. Just thoughts.

God forsaken northern swamps.

Middle of June, am on my balcony with a sweater and jacket.

What helps, is,
A cup of pure hot cocoa,
A tumbler of Singleton, age 12.

It is gonna be another great weekend.

Just yesterday, I was still laughing about the last one.

It came to my mind when the girl with longer legs then me asked me if I do this often?

"What?"

"Talking to random girls, and getting their number, and meeting them out for a whiskey and wine. "

"Li'l girl, if you look in the mirror, those girls are not really random. "

I remembered meeting a very good female friend. A guy I know blown out by her friend, my pleasure; Me talking to the breastfeeding mom who wants to give me her number, the girl who was bending down to the dj booth, and us guys noticing it only when we noticed the other girls not being able to take their eyes away from the full open view of some booty. Teaching a good friend about the mutated reincarnation of the Apache tribe. Writing a poem for one of the sweetest brides (monster to be) and getting a pink rose. The gorgeous face girl with the big butt thinking she would be too easy for me if she talked to me. Then, not able to keep her eyes away. And other things that will maybe remain forgotten,

And she asked

"Why are you smiling?"

Damn. Having too much fun.

I leave you with G'N'R.

You have been lied to

Tall? Check

Looks? Check

Cuteness? Check

Do I think I know her? Check. Shit. So either we talked, she rejected me, or I took the number and did not bring the pursuit to the end, or she is the wife of someone I know. I have in the past not remembered women I had sex with, but with this one I was sure that nothing had come out of our possible interaction.

A few beers' worth time later I remember who she is, just as she is walking by.

I stop her, her eyes are my level, and she has no high heels. I have a smirk. The deadly one.

I recite some things I remember avout a chat we had some years ago.

Now she remembers me, and actually remembers the conversation better than me.

And now that I remember her, I gotta complete the list, after a short conversation,

Tall? Check

Looks? Check

Cuteness? Check

Gorgeous smile? Check

Intelligent? Check

Friendly? Check

Shy in a sexy way? Check

Am I interested? Check

She accepts me inviting myself, with a smirk, to her place for playing with some animal of hers? Check

Then her friend pulls her away.

I spot her when she is leaving the bar, go up to her. Immediate recognition of my presence, a welcome smile, accompanied with me taking my phone out, and her reaching for it.

"I am leaving for holiday in two weeks. Type your number, I'll call you before that"

"Sure. I am on holiday anyway"

"Wow.. Already?"

"Yea, am on maternity leave", the look of a loving mother on her face (see bottom of story)

"Hmmm... Do not be offended that I have put my phone in my pocket now. I hope you understand"

"...yes"

"Good night" I say sincerely,

"Good night" she says warmly.

I felt sorry for this girl.

An intelligent woman thinking a guy like me would be in line to date her when she was breastfeeding her little baby.

Ladies you have been lied to.

We guys are not in queue to date you once you have born children to other men. Hell, especially not when you are breastfeeding still...

At least, guys like me are not. The others you dont want anyway.

He is your magic boy. For me, somebody else's dick juice.

Tall? Check

Looks? Check

Cuteness? Check

Gorgeous smile? Check

Intelligent? Check

Friendly? Check

Shy in a sexy way? Check

Am I interested? Check

She accepts me inviting myself, with a smirk, to her place for playing with animalxxx? Check

Breastfeeding a baby? Someonelse's baby? Check.

Automated response: Uncheck all the previous checks.

And dont get me started on women going to bars while their babies are still not even toddling. Though, I have seen worse than just going to a bar for a night.

The Tiger Robe -1- 200 pounds of self confidence

Friends from different towns called me say they are in town.Apparently some grad party was going on.

The phone came around 6 pm, and they were already bombed to oblivion.

I went to my gym, had some food, donned my down jacket, went out to take the walk to the party address at -15 celsius.

My fingers freezing, my toes having lost feeling, (ok, am exxagerating), I call them to tell I am close, and would they please come down to open the door.

They laugh, drunk as they are and say they are outside smoking, waiting for me.

At -15 celcius, I get greeted by two guys, enjoying the hot temperatures with only army boots and bathrobes.

One of them with a tiger patterned bathrobe.

Later that night, due to the lack of place – 30 party animals in a flat of 26 square meters, including the restroom – I find myself with a buddy sitting on my left leg, me chatting with the cutiepie on my right.

Conversation is fun and I tell the guy

"Damn man, you are heavy. What, 100 kgs?"

"Good guess man"

"Fuck, my leg needs no guess"

The girl, interrupts, asks "is he heavy?"

"Yea, damn. One hundred. I could use you on my other leg to balance him out, but that would break both my legs"

"You mean I am that heavy?"

I turn my head, look her up and down, and say

"One hundred?"

She instantly gets her eyes wet

"Why you say so?"

Mind you, this girl is around 50 kgs. No extra fat on her body, young, engaged, good looking.

"Look in the mirror"

And there she was, from smiling to almost crying in under 60 seconds.

I felt sorry for her, but also got angry, and I guess my angry tone telling her to fucking look in the fucking mirror, and asking her if she sees a woman who is 100 kgs, convinced her that it was a bloody joke.

Telling a girl who is 100 kgs, that she looks 100kgs is cruel and honest.

Telling a girl who is 100 pounds that she looks 100 kgs is a bloody joke.

Interesting thing is to once again see the unimaginably low self esteem of a good looking woman.

No joke of mine can beat this tragic joke of life.

The Tiger Robe -2- Legendary Indifference

And my german arrived to the party. Having driven 200 kilometers in the passenger seat under strict speed limits is enough to smash even this guy.

Our chat is good, and for a second I leave this guy and turn to talk to the 200pound cutie on my right.

A blondie in the bar comes to him and starts talking, while she is talking to him

"You know, bla bla bla....", I reach for his beer, as I am too lazy to grab myself one from the far away frindge in the 26 squaremeter hole.

He looks at her nodding,

She continues, all the time intensely looking at him,

"and then, bla bla bla", and he notices he at some point had a beer.

"and since yada yada yada", she is still looking at him, he is looking to the ground on his left, no beer.

"and since yada yada yada", she is still looking at him, he is looking to the ground on his right, no beer, and does not see his beer in my hands

"but then yada yada yada", she is still looking at him, he is looking to the ground behind his chair, no beer.

"I did yada yada yada", she is still looking at him, he is looking to the ground under his chair, no beer.

"in school yada yada yada", she is still looking at him, he is looking to the other room behind him, no beer.

"then at work yada yada yada", she is still looking at him, he pushed her to the side to look behind her, no beer.

All this time, I am watching him look for his beer, not even once nodding to the girl, the girl intensely watching him, telling her life story, and me holding the guys beer.

I could not stand it anymore, my jaw about to cramp,

I tapped him on the shoulder, and said "dude, you're looking for this, I suppose"

"Hell yea" he says, happily smiling, looking into my eyes with the look of a kid who just got birthday presents,

She still was yabbering on some topic I cant remember.

That was unintentional on his side,

But that was textbook indifference.

Legendary indifference.

The Tiger Robe - 3 - The whore

Good feelings. Everybody is feeling good, and it is time to ove to town,

We go downstairs'n'out.

Back to -15.

While there is a snowfight going on in the courtyard, my friends exit the building, and I suggest outloud,

"Yo, let's go to the strip club across the street", as bait for the drunk fish, and one fish bites.

Not the one that I was waiting for. A girl from the party.

"Eeeeeew.. You go to strip clubs?"

"No. I dont pay if I cant touch"

"So you dont go to strip clubs?"

"No, like I said, no touchy touchy, me not payee payee"

"You don't pay?"

"Touchee touchee, me maybee payee payee"

Then she makes the mistake

"I would not do it with you"

To which I slap

"I would not pay for you" (I'd do her for free...)

And there I made the mistake,

She turns around and starts shouting

"HE CALLED ME A WHORE!!!!! THIS BASTARD CALLED ME A WHOoOoOOooReeEE" (trying to emulate her voice)

My buddies in the courtyard looked and me, and her, me laughing, holding my stomach, and they smiled knowingly, contined the snowfight they just had joined.

And as luck would have it, this would not be the first time I would get a stomach ache cause a woman identified herself as a whore, or at least thought it possible that someone would think she is one.

Fuck man, life is good.

You made your bed

I was walking in town with a friend, when he showed me the girl standing on the other side of the street with a middle eastern douche by her side.

He said "Damn she is gorgeous, but I always see her with an Apache by her side"

Apache is the nick used for middle eastern douchbags by these new age Apaches' countrymen, or anybody else, now that I've made my mission to distribute knowledge. So, nothing racist, really. More to the fucking core!

What is a douchebag you ask? This.

I said, "She may be gorgeous, but a woman choosing to bed that kind of guy is not worth my dick"

He, "Come on.. You'd do her"

Me, being tired and hungover from a legendary drunkness from the previous night "If on the day she hits on me, I am not disgusted, then maybe. Now, I am simply, fucking disgusted"

Thinking it over last night made me come to the conclusion that if I recognize her when we ever interact, the disgust will be ever present.

Which is true, and is necessary.

Pussy has value, men want pussy. We want to shag.

A pussy that has welcomed that penis, is not worth my dick. Simple.

You lady, just have fucked your value away.

You made your bed, and I will not lie in it.

The Princess - Part 1 - Self appointed princess

First time I saw her, a very good looking tall blondie, she played coy, shy and hard to get. Fine.

Now she set the standard: She has to be coy and shy and hard to get to everybody else.

Second time I saw her, she was all over a spanish guido with olive oil in the hair.

Now she set the standard: If opportunity arises, with minimal, and I mean minimal, investment, "hi ma'am, bam ma'am, bye ma'am"... I'd have liked to enjoy that still young body with those tall legs and correct sized breasts...

Saying that, Jeff from "Coupling" comes to mind... "Brrrrreeeeeaaaassssssttttssssss"... Best series ever.



Back to point,

So I took her to coffee.

I get to hear she is a princess.

I get to hear she has guys driving her to places, you know "he is just a friend"...

I get to hear she broke up with her ex out of the blue, breaking a relationship of many years.. Sadly I cannot out the reason here, could be personal...

Well, in the end, we did not bam bam...

We flirted a few more times after that date but the feeling was not there. Jumping from "hi ma'am" to "bye ma'am" felt like the best option, though those legs were left untouched. The legs were just not enough for me to act with the full force of my fireballs.

The Princess - Part 2 - She meant nothing, so I took her to coffee...

I do not take women I am not openly committed to out to a coffee date or such.

I know I am missing out on a lot of advertisement. In the end, women want what other women want.

Coffee dates or such event with women would help me immensely.

But, this is a small town, and people are prejudiced. A woman seen with me may loose out on some prospects. I mean, today I am supporting a full caveman beard, when I am out I have my shirt buttons down, a nice patch of chest hair on a built chest; due to the three acne scars in my face (amont a few hundred others in my face), I have a permanent scowl.

Me out on a date with a woman is free advertising for me.
A woman out on a date where I am non-committed is bad advertising for her.

So, if I care about you, I care about your reputation.

That is why I took the princess out on a coffee date.

Cause she meant nothing.

The Princess - Part 3 - Romeo and the Ho and, the Stomachless Horseman

No one in this story is finnish. That should be refreshing.

She was the friend of a Princess. Gorgeous body, beautiful long hair, but the face was already showing the sign of extensilve night living.

Just as it happens almost always, she showed subtle interest in me, since it was the other girl I was curious about.

There was also the feeling that I had about her being some sort of psycho. Trouble.

Staying away was the choice.

Definitely played the "I am so very picky" game.

So we'll call her PickyGrrrl (a.k.a Spidey)



Him I know from long time. We usually go to the same bar. Monobrow, always furrowed. Somewhere from a sunny place, in his thirties.

This guy, never smiling is one of the guys playing to the law of averages.

You know, if you try hard enough, you'll eventually get something.

The thing about giving 50 million monkeys 50 million typewriters and 50 million years.

They will eventually write Shakespeare's Hamlet.

Tries every living female. Last one I saw him with was a fifty year old woman, short and overweight, and these two were smooching... Just the mental image made me cringe.

He is "Stomachless Horseman"


Night one:

I am drunk and was having a guys night out which was just ending,

Waiting by the cloak room for a friend of mine to say bye to her friends, when Stomachless Horseman is walking by me with his legendary frown. Then I realize he is holding hands with somebody.

My eyes take time to adjust, but there she is, proudly and happily walking behing Stomachless Horseman, holding hands, having found a great catch, looking at me with "look what I got" eyes; PickyGrrrl.

People wondered why I was smiling the rest of the night.


Night two:

Sitting at the bar with my friend, who got me a glass of good whiskey even when I told him I want tea.

There comes an italian Romeo. Hair all spiked with diesel fuel. The masculine latino jaw firm in its place..

Proudly guiding his trophy blondie towards the bar, asking her what she will drink, ordering their drinks. Briefly looked over to me, with the stallion's eyes, with that look in his face. That look which told me that I dont have a trophy like that with me, and smirked.

The trophy was PickyGrrrl.

I smirked.

There he was, Valentino, proud to be carrying with him PickyGrrrl, proud to have such a trophy; a trophy which was delighted to be seduced by Stomachless Horseman, the picky, high quality man who the stomach to get into ben naked with fifty year old overweight women and exchange various body juices.

I smirked, knowing the only one who could be proud of any achievement, if there was any, would be that fifty year old woman who got to bed the man who can even bed blondies who are so attractive that they can bed handsome italian stallions.

I smirked back at Romeo.

Romeo the proud italian tool, no?

Dude, you were so tooled with. Heh, a proud tool.

How can I not smirk, .how?
.

The Princess - Part 4 - Epilogue

All said and done, in the end it was my failure to fail to obtain what i wanted for some short term pleasure.


I had my chances, I blew them; incidentally she had her chances on other times, and she blew them.


Mistakes, bad timing, bad choices, and other factors stopped the interaction from moving forward.


The make out was fun, I'll settle for that.


Her friend, acting weird all the time, gave signals for me to move forward with the princess, sometimes these signal were for herself.


No intention on my side... Though, I admit, in a weak moment, I did consider bedding the spidey, but a ten second moment is not worth dwelling on too much. (That was before Monobrow)


The interesting thing is the night of the endgame.


Princess flirting with me, spidey acting funny, the guy in the group jealous of the two girls, and trying to assess the situation, sometimes bordering agressive but never passing the line.


End of the night, princess is trying to leave but gets sucked towards me. I, by now know there is something going on, and this is acknowledged by spidey telling me princess has a "decent man" in her life now, and that I should let her go, like in "set her free".


Now it made sense, why the guy in the group was so irritated, besides me flirting with spidey also, and why spidey was acting funny and princess looked confused all night.


For me, there is no big loss, never wanted something more than the horizontal tango with those beautifully long legs.


The decent man though, he sadly is in for a rude awakening. It may not be me, but it will be somebody like me who will one day enjoy the woman he is building his life around now.


It may not be me, cause there are way too many attractive women out there to bother with a taken one. And then, there's gotta be some decency even in a one night stand.


I walked home, singing to myself, "Another one bites the dust", cheerful in my own heart, but somehow feeling sorry for another decent man's inevitable suffering.