I am always leaving. I see no reason for today to be any different.

(sigh)

More snow. No matter, unless there is a drastic turn for the worse in road conditions, I’m leaving tomorrow. Period. There are other things, but I won’t go into them here.

…that women are the most insecure bunch of people on the face of the Earth.

It’s funny how women work so hard to seem like MTV vee-jays or pop stars to men. They focus a hundred percent of their attention on make-up and hair and zero percent of their attention on seeming like a human being or on treating their guy like a human being. They’re quick to admit to their prospective date(s) how many threesomes they’ve had and how my times they’ve been high and naked in a room full of police officers, but they’re scared shitless that the guy will someday find out that they once read The Return of the Native, or used to play chess with high school friends, or used to do community theatre with their parents, or used to like warm popcorn balls on snowy days.

Then, they’re confused when mere human guys lose interest, or when the men that appear in their lives are only interested in sex and seem shallow and uncaring. Inevitably, as they feel less and less fulfilled by the types of male companionship they have, they put on more make-up, more hair spray, and tell still wilder stories about the time they put on a live sex show with four men, a governor, a stick of dynamite, and a rhino in front of an audience of drunken nuns in Italy. They bury their simple, human selves — their normal past and normal childhood (i.e. everything even remotely loveable about them) — even deeper, and do their best to give the impresison that for them, insane exploits and escapades are a daily routine.

“Because then I’ll be more sexy and more exciting to them, right?” they ask themselves subconsciously.

And then women complain that men are only interested in sex and drugs and see women as objects. Ladies: nice guys want to date human beings with the same needs and insecurities that they have — it’s not a warm fuzzy to feel like you’re trying to date a cross between Aphrodite, Medusa, and an Amazon. Men date and settle down for companionship, not because they want a comic book porn show. Comic book porn shows are easy enough to get at any magazine shop or gentlemen’s club — there are professionals for that and there always have been, we don’t need to put up with you in long-term relationships to get it. And here’s some news for you: most guys in happy long-term relationships would not trade their girlfriend in for Anna Nicole or Mistress Wanda. And they’d be less attracted to you if you were to try to become more like either.

Why are women shocked to learn that when they construct themselves as oversexualized, girls-gone-wild supermodels, they seem to attract men who are looking for just those attributes? Why do they blind everyone in sight with their hyper-vagina-dentata-ness, and then complain that nobody then sees the “real me that’s lonely, deep down inside” of them?

If you want to be loved for you, you’re gonna have to be you. If you emphasize your tits and ass and refuse to give people access to the real you, the only people around you are going to be the ones who are after your tits and ass. So many feminist theorists are so sure that men are afraid of womens’ sexuality… well here’s news. We’re not. We enjoy it. But we don’t want to drown in it any more than we want to drown in any other force of nature. And guess what? As an autonomous being just like you, that’s my right, as it is the right of every man. You’re free to put on as much makeup and screw as many people in one week as you want. Just be prepared to spend time with the men who are into that, while the rest of us take shelter from your storm.

Duh. Just duh.

—

And here’s news for you… Most of the guys who appear to be shallow tit-and-ass chasers without a sentimental bone in their body are overcompensating for insecurity about their own attractiveness and personal worth in precisely the same way. Unfulfilled at the way that women don’t see the real them, deep down inside, hey work hard at being hyper-masculine in an effort to attract female attention.

Funny, isn’t it?

Or sad, maybe…

—

P.S. I realize that I didn’t include the womens’ point of view or the GLBT point of view in this rant, but I am neither a woman, nor am I a GLBT person, so I won’t presume to speak for either crowd. Thanks.