Yeah, somebody really should tell me too.
.seriously, I gave that a lot of thought over the years. I got this weird fetish for
Petite Women
Brunettes (also black hair)
Lacy Neck Chokers
Accents
Women in Business Clothes
Pony Tails
Bi-Women
Why? No damn woman in my past aligns with all of those, and I’ve searched my memory hard asfuck looking for a archetype. Can’t find any. My first girlfriend was blond, as well as longest was blond, quite content without brunettes, naturally I would never tell her “you be better as a brunette” cause I don’t thing she would look well as one honestly, and I would know it wasn’t real. She was petite though, but I liked that prior. She had a accent, but liked that prior so it wasn’t her. I even bought her business clothes so I could bang her in her office after hours, so that wasn’t her, the idea was already around.
I don’t know. Fucking stumped. All I know is, the ideal woman is a petite brunette in business clothes, a dress shirt, and she has a little clevage showing, and a choker a pony tail, and she invites me back to her office with her accent, and when I get there, she starts making out with her secretary and afterwards we get married and have 30 kids.
Maybe it is like Total Recall, and I’m married to such a woman and government wiped it from my memory? Past life? Something I saw as a kid?
Fuck if I know. I just know I’m not too different from a male horse, who collect similar looking mares for their harem. I had was Attila the Hun, building up my own harem, I already know all the women would be look at one another asking "again, have we met? " Naturally be a few exceptions, but mist would look like that, and all would be waving Freud’s picture around. I can point back to Earl brunettes I liked, but that’s the issue, I liked them first. Sometimes I will see one walk around that causes the air in me to suck out involuntarily, dumbest haircut does it for me too. Just seeing hair roughly this length
Like that or parted across and down one side of the forhead makes me dizzy. Again… Why? Who, When? No clue. I agree, I must of learned it, but I apparently didn’t, just identified it automatically as correct and preferred.
I even remember once I had deep emotional distress because of a hairstyle change I got used to. Girlfriend came out if that stinky chemical weapons shop you ladies call a Salon with luxurious, long curls. That shit didn’t work for me, she kept shaking her head back and forth, I put on my fakest smile and acted excited, I so hated that shit, ad couldn’t exactly demand her to go get her hair straight again. So distracting I was having performance issues later, felt like I was cheating on her. I wanted my girlfriend back. Yes, she had a right to her own hair, blah blah blah… but there was a growing emptyness inside, and I… Just wanted things as they were. Simpler and just better.
And not all women who abide by those rules pass either, I can find lots of work who fit those standards above, and I’m like “meh”.
Some obvious things is too much makeup. I want to squirt you in the face with a squirt gun. Too fake and bloaty sucks. Eyes don’t stand out sucks… but also other features I can’t pinpoint as well. I just instantly know at a glance it won’t work for me. They don’t suck the air out of me when I look at them, but I do linger trying to pinpoint exactly what it is, and that’s ironically when I give the most eye contact to a woman, and that sends mixed signals. If she is too attractive, I just can’t look at her, and if I stumbled around like a blind man not looking in her face trying to give stuff if asked, missing and shaking a but, fumbling, yeah- you look great. If I’m looking you dead in the face, I see nothing, cause your not of interest. Very cruel of me, unfair, I’m a horrible shit and three wiccan feminists are in the woods making a voodoo doll of me having read this right now,I get it. Bad shaneful me. My fetish is a cheap lacy choker on the neck if a straight hair brunette… the injustice to all such women, all that time and labor spent in putting one on,having to walk around in public on display like that. Must be hell for women, to the dungeons with the likes of me.