Let’s take a gander at a clip that is going around on the internet at the moment. Don’t worry, I cut it to the important part, the lesson for you, the watcher.

“Everything I told you in that pod..was real.”

When a woman tells me she loves me, I believe it. Why? Because at the time she is telling me that, she believes it. I know that I could hook her up to a polygraph machine and “no lie detected” would come out the other end. It’s because in that moment, at that time, it was the truth. “Her truth,” if you will.

That is why I added the screenshot at the beginning of this post. Nick August laughed and said, “I meant it when I said it.” And that is exactly what I’m writing about and it’s exactly what that video clip that I shortened up is about. You’ll notice I added my own two cents to Nick’s original tweet.

“For now.” “Right now.”

“I love you, Rob. (Right now.)”

“I want to spend time with you, Rob. (For now.)”

“You are the guy I have been looking for my entire life, Rob. (Right now and for now.)”

I have said it before in the past, there’s no permanency.

When you can internalize that the woman in front of you, telling you that she wants to marry you and that she wants to be with you for the rest of her life, is telling you the truth right in the moment, but that’s no guarantee of tomorrow, or the next day, let alone the rest of your life, and you can be okay with knowing that what she means is “right now,” then you’ll be fine.

You’ll really understand the phrase, “She’s Not Yours, It’s Just Your Turn.”

When I first encountered that phrase, it was a hard, bitter pill to swallow. That’s because I was still stuck on the idea of permanency. I also assumed incorrectly, that when a woman would tell me something, I took it at face value like a man does when speaking to another man. If I tell you something, I mean it, and I don’t just mean it for the moment that it came from my lips. If and when I give my “word,” it’s my bond. You can count on it and take it to the bank. Women don’t operate like that. It doesn’t mean that they are liars and are completely untrustworthy, it just means that you need to take what they say with a grain of salt most of the time.

When you figure out, “she’s not yours, it’s just your turn,” and you realize that there truly is no permanency, and you then realize that “there’s always another woman,” you get to do pretty much whatever you want. It’ll “set you free.” You won’t be angry about it, you won’t be bitter about it, and you’ll realize that none of it matters for the most part, and you’ll be able to enjoy yourself and the people around you, in that moment.

“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.

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?