Desperate And Lying Guys, And The Things They Say..

“A conversation no one is ready for is when it comes to choosing a spouse attractiveness is MAYBE 3rd on the list, might be situationally lower for many.” – Skull King Bjorn

I ran across this particular tweet, thanks to Rian Stone quoting it and giving his own two cents about it. I liked what Rian said, and I’ll come back to that in a bit, but for now, let’s talk about my take on this tweet, shall we?

I’m going to start off by saying that this particular tweet is one of the most dangerous tweets that I have seen in a while. I’m not trying to be melodramatic, but it really is that dangerous. Why is it dangerous?

Because if you believe in what he is saying, you’re going to be disappointed down the road, and that’s because you are going to “settle.”

Only someone who is desperate and who is lying to himself would say that attractiveness is “MAYBE 3rd on the list.” What I’m hearing him say without saying it is, “It’s what’s on the inside that matters.” I would know, because that is how I ended up getting married back in 2009.

My ex-wife was never a “hot” woman. But she was kind. And she was self-sufficient. And she laughed at my jokes. And she liked to touch my dick. The truth is, I was desperate and lying to myself back then. I was in a place where women were few and far between. “Thirst is the worst,” as Rian states it, and indeed it is. I was thirsty and I had a low self-esteem and I didn’t think I could do any better than her, and I didn’t want to be “shallow,” because “it’s what’s on the inside that matters.” And I was getting older. Are you getting the picture here yet?

Fast forward towards the end of my marriage…

She had gained weight. She was never a petite girl, but yeah.

And there was a host of other things that contributed to the demise of our marriage, and if they had been in a vacuum, I could have probably dealt with them. Each of those things by themselves wasn’t enough for me to pull the pin on the grenade, but altogether? Goodbye marriage, hello divorce and being single again.

When I got divorced, I hit the ground running when it came to dating and sex. Turns out my sex-drive wasn’t diminished because of aging and “low T,” it had gone to sleep. Once I started dating women that I was truly, actually attracted to, I couldn’t stop fucking. It was like being 20 years old, all over again.

Even today at the tender age of 51 as I write this, I literally can’t stop fucking. I can’t stop fucking the belly dancer, or Velvet, or Kitten, or some of the other women that I met in my past. That’s because for me, attractiveness is NUMBER ONE. Go on and tell me I’m “shallow.” I DO NOT GIVE A FUCK.

Any man who tells you that attractiveness is “MAYBE 3rd on the list” is fucking lying.

He’s lying to you, the reader, watcher, or listener, and he’s lying to himself. The only part that I can’t figure out and ultimately doesn’t really matter is, is he lying intentionally or not?

A guy who says that attractiveness is “MAYBE 3rd on the list” is desperate and he is lying, at least to himself. If you want something that will potentially “stand the test of time,” you have to be attracted to her. If not, you have a roommate who you are raising kids with, if that’s how your life turns out. Or you have a “friend.” A “good friend.” Someone that you can share a few laughs with and swap stories with. But that’s about it.

Take it from a guy who ultimately didn’t want to fuck his own wife. And look where that went.

To wrap it up, I’m going to post Rian’s quote for posterity:

“This has no attachment to reality.” And THAT is why it is so dangerous.

But if you read it enough times, you too, might start seeing the “sense” in it. If you do, all I can say is, “You get to burn, and I’ll see you in a couple of years.”

It Never Rains, But It Pours

It never rains, but it pours.

Earlier, I wrote an article about Velvet coming back into the fold.

Things have been going very well with her, so far, but then again, it’s only been a few days. Time will tell. Which, by the way, I’m going to come back to in a moment.

But you’ll never guess who called me up out of the blue?

Kitten.

I’m sitting at my home, scrolling Twitter and having a beer. I’m winding down from my day at work. The phone rings. I figured it was my Father, checking in on me, making sure that I’m okay. I pick up the phone and glance at the caller ID…and it’s Kitten.

I answered and she said hello.

She was surprised that I knew it was her when I said her name. (I guess she didn’t know or think about caller ID and the fact that I don’t delete names and phone numbers, EVER.) So yes, I knew it was her.

I was surprised to hear from her. It’s been 3 and 1/2 years since she decided to “fly the coop” and go on with her life, but here she was, calling me.

We exchanged pleasantries, and after that, she told me why she was calling.

She misses me.

She’s doing what she does, she is living her life the only way she knows how, but apparently, I “made a mark on her.”

Now there was some things between Kitten and me that I never mentioned to you, Gentle Reader, things that I won’t mention now either, but let us say, that I figured if she ever wanted to talk to me again, I had to ask some questions and get some “things off of my chest.”

Today was that day.

I was able to ask my questions and say what I needed to say to her. I guess you could say I got “closure.” At least as far as that goes.

She invited me to go snow camping with her, which I politely declined.

Not because it was her, but because I can’t stand camping in the snow. I hate the cold and I hate sleeping in a tent. I loved that shit when I was 20 or so, but alas, I’m no longer 20. I like my camping to include heat and an actual bed. To be honest, my ideal idea of camping is to spend it in a hotel with a sauna and a hot tub in the room. That’s more my style these days.

We talked for about a half hour or so and she said what she needed to say to me. Why did she need to say it? I honestly don’t know and I don’t really care. But…

I am the invitation.

So of course I told her, “Kitten, whatever is, is. Whatever was, was. I still care about you and think about you from time to time. If you ever want to come back into my life, you are more than welcome. You need to know that I haven’t changed. I’m still who I am. I still date how I date. But if you can accept that, you can join me, if you would like.”

And I left it at that.

Will she come back into my world? Who knows? Do I really care one way or another? No.

She either does or she doesn’t, the ball is in her court on that one. It was good hearing from her though.

On to the thing I was going to mention earlier:

You can’t be mad at a scorpion because it stings.

I’m not talking about astrology here.

I’m talking about nature.

Some women are a hot mess, that’s how they are.

Some are flighty and all of them are neurotic to one degree or another.

It’s their nature.

You can’t be mad at them for their nature.

“Velvet” is back, but she’s flighty. Will she disappear again? Most likely. I would even say, almost definitely. That’s okay by me, because that is her nature. She has showed me who she truly is, and I’m okay with that.

“Kitten” is a hot fucking mess. Red flags abound. I really wonder if she knows if she is coming or going. Ultimately it doesn’t matter. She is who she is. She’s a scorpion, just like “Velvet.” That doesn’t mean that I don’t want to “handle” them though. Both of them are more fun than masturbating. Both of them have their positive qualities. And I’m not afraid of either one of them. They just do what they do, and they are who they are. I can accept that about both of them.

In many ways, I am the “immovable object.” I know what I want, I know what I’ll put up with, and you’ll be hard pressed to move me.

I’m not necessarily “rigid,” but I’m not going to budge an inch on things that work for me. That’s the “hill that I will die on.” That’s why I consider my dating life to be a revolving door. Women come and women go, but I’m still here and I couldn’t be happier. But I can’t be mad at a scorpion because they sting.

Which brings me to my final thought:

Why are you getting mad that a scorpion stings?

Of course, if you get stung, it fucking hurts. Ask me how I know.

But how can you be mad at them? How can you consider them “evil?”

They aren’t “evil,” they are what they are. They are a part of nature, just like you. Just like me.

So how can you be mad at them for being what they are?

You saw their nature. In fact, they showed and told you all along what they were. You were the one to turn a blind eye.

So how can you be mad at them?

The Return

“Velvet” Back Again.

I wrote a post a little while back, it’s something that reiterates what Rian Stone wrote about in Fuccfiles.

A couple of days ago, I received a text from a phone number that I didn’t have in my phone, and that I didn’t recognize. The woman said hello and told me her name. Now, her name is actually pretty common, and that didn’t help me out a lot, so I decided to play along and started asking questions to either suss out who this person actually was, or to determine if “she” was a bullshit artist.

One of the questions that I asked was what was her dog’s name. She was able to answer it correctly and I knew that it was indeed “Velvet.” (For those of you wanting to know more of my backstory with “Velvet,” just go to the search bar on my blog and type in “Velvet,” and you’ll get everything that I have written about her and our time together.)

“Velvet” and I have a “vibe.” It’s not just the sex, it’s the conversations and the way we interact with each other. That’s why it was sad and disappointing for me when she called me on Labor Day Weekend of 2022 and had to tell me goodbye. She wanted monogamy and a boyfriend. She knew that’s not who I was and she was also smart enough or wise enough to know that she couldn’t or wouldn’t change me. So she had to go. I get it. It’s the price of admission for the lifestyle that I lead. I realized a long time ago that not everybody would want to date and relate the way that I do. I consider my love life to be a revolving door most of the time. Women show up, women leave. I’m still here.

When “Velvet” told me goodbye, I wasn’t surprised. I had felt a “disturbance in the Force” for a minute and knew something was up, and when she called me, she confirmed it. I have to admit though, out of all the goodbyes I have received from women over the years, her’s was the most humane, kind, thoughtful, and genuine.

I was sad to see her go, but that’s what happens.

6 months later and she’s texting me, which is when I thought about what Rian said in Fuccfiles. The great majority of women who decided to reach out to me didn’t want me, they just wanted to know that they could have me. Maybe they were bored. Maybe they were lonely. Who knows? Ultimately, who cares? All of them were time wasters, until now.

I have always been honest with the women I meet about who and what I am and what I’m looking for. There are plenty of guys on the internet who would disagree with what I say to the women I meet and how I say it. I don’t care. It works for me, and that is all that matters.

“Velvet” and I met up again in person this last Friday night. She looked amazing. We had shellfish and drinks. She also came back to my place and left late Saturday morning. We are planning to see each other again some time this upcoming week.

After our first session of sex on Friday night, I had to ask her something. My morbid curiosity was getting the better of me.

“Velvet, you know who and what I am, and what I’m looking for. It was ultimately why you had to tell me goodbye 6 months ago. So knowing that, knowing I haven’t changed and that I’m not going to change in the foreseeable future, why are you here?”

Why are you here?

Why are you here, Velvet? Why indeed?

I make a lousy husband and boyfriend, that’s just me being honest about me. I do make a great Lover, though. But why are you here if what you want and what I want are diametrically opposed?

She said:

“Rob, I know who and what you are. I also know that I want the “white picket fence.” I also know that is a fantasy. I realized that I want to live. I remember something you told me. You said, “It’s not the journey or the destination, but the company that you choose to keep.” I want that, and that’s why I’m here.”

So “Velvet” is back. For now. Time will tell and we will see. I have to admit though, the sex was pretty fucking hot and we picked up right where we left off as if no time had elapsed. Then again, I assumed that everything would work out the way that it did, and it did.

Sometimes they actually want you, not just knowing that they could have you. It’s rare. So rare that this is only the second time in my life that this has happened. The last time that happened I was 19, naive, stupid, and young.

Where will this go? I have no idea. I don’t think about those things too much. I’m not built that way. I don’t dwell on the past or the future too much. I just live in the present moment.

Will “Velvet” walk away again? Probably. When will that happen? I don’t know. It could be today. It could be tomorrow. It could be 20 years from now. I have no idea. All I know is that there are no guarantees in life and you might as well live every moment as if it was your last.