dk wrote:The sorority girls (at UF... ΔΓ, ΔΔΔ, ΚΑΘ, etc. etc.) who are all absolutely fucking in love with me could not give two shits about what I say. They really don't respond to content, one way or the other. They simply respond biologically to my utter manliness. I could be walking around quoting Mary Poppins, and that wouldn't change how they feel. In their cockles, they feel that I am an absolute force of nature, and that it would simply be safer to raise children in a family (or community) headed by a guy like me, rather than in a typical post-modern hellscape where all males are expected to behave like lapdogs, just waiting in their miserable yuppie condos for the civilization ending scenarios outlined above to start happening.
now i'd almost say these types are the female ideal if you didn't tell me they 'could not give two shits about what I say. They really don't respond to content, one way or the other.'
a woman who recognizes a virile, dominant and energetic male and selects him over those 'lapdogs' demonstrates the first pre-requisite of the ideal... but without being able to give attention to his intellect or have one of their own, they remain the beta version of female the conservatives so admire; 'barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen.'
this is why i admire the feminist movement. it acts as a filter... weeding out beta males who feel interrogated and threatened by the female's new power... and it also opens up more potential to produce alpha females; those who aren't just lusting after you, but are also sincerely interested in what you think... because they have a mind of their own.
sounds good, though. maybe try to
get them interested, intellectually, by shaking them up a little. put the socrates shuffle on em; question and challenge everything they think and believe and send em into a fucking mental crisis that's on the verge of a complete breakdown. put some osmosis in their gnosis. that oughta get em interested.
and if it doesn't work, if you've absolutely exhausted your maieutic credentials to no avail, and instead of her crossing her arms behind her back and pacing like a philosopher back and forth in deep thought about the oil problem, she says again 'yeah denny i don't care about all that... let's have sex', then there's only one imperative you should concern yourself with;
keep it greasy.
^^^ that mutha gets into a 19/16 at the middle. it's ridiculous. colaiuta (drummer) is like a fucking machine.