Quote: (07-15-2015 09:16 AM)Courage Reborn Wrote:
But time and time again, I get hung up on the most insane, emotionally volatile chicks possible. Against my better judgement. Just like how women get turned on by the bad boy. Even though she knows he's bad news logically.
If going for crazy chicks is the male equivalent of "going for the bad boy," I'm a vacant-eyed carousel rider who's been in dozens of
gangbangs at rodeos and who gets pushed to the A-List line on the
flights to Dubai.
Absolutely nothing fuels my boner more than a crazy chick. And I mean it in the unhealthiest of twisted ways. I've gotten to the point I can sniff out crazy in the subtlest and tiniest of signals. Just like a World Series of Poker champion knows you have a shitty hand if one of your sweat glands so much as quivers, I know a bitch is my-kind-of-crazy just from the way she glances down for a fraction of a second, from the idiosyncrasies of her word-choice patterns, even from the penmanship on her shopping list. This is some next-level, horse-whisperer, Beautiful Mind shit.
I'm sure this is some sort of escalating, drug-like addiction--where I've gradually moved from candy cigarettes to Meth--but I now find myself
actively seeking out odder and crazier bitches. The other day, some chick stole an undisclosed
large object from a bar I took her to. She just walked out with it, and it was large enough to see from a block away. I didn't even flinch. In fact, I thought it endearing that she, later, gave it to me--telling me it "look[ed] nice" in my apartment. Avoiding them once upon a time, I now blast through red flags like a bull at Pamplona.
A sampling of the crazy bitches I've banged, even "dated":
- Was institutionalized when she had a breakdown because I didn't call her back soon enough (Just try to conceptualize the hall-of-fame dicking I must lay down for bitches to develop that level of anguish.)
![[Image: giphy.gif]](http://media.giphy.com/media/eR5b5AexuprFK/giphy.gif)
- Heard voices in head, and had the audacity to get mad at me when I once callously fell asleep during one of her episodes, instead of trying to help her quiet them (i.e., I was so unfazed by her psychotic episode, I was able to sleep like a baby through it. It might have even rocked me to sleep.)
![[Image: tumblr_n97b50oM3Y1tc9kyao1_500.gif]](https://38.media.tumblr.com/0d29a61663ecf1f82f7666be458f5a24/tumblr_n97b50oM3Y1tc9kyao1_500.gif)
- Was so emotionally numb she had a blank stare during sex, and would talk about pedestrian topics. The last time we banged, she was asking me career advice while I was pounding. I gave her the advice, and it had zero effect on my boner. If anything, the emotional disconnect firmed it up a little bit.
![[Image: 20140625_1045_34.gif]](http://cdn2.vox-cdn.com/assets/4669231/20140625_1045_34.gif)
- Brazenly stole from me on the first date (a pack of gum) and then had the temerity to offer me a stick of my own gum later that night (not in a joking way).
There are more stories like this, and that doesn't even count all of the categories that include
multiple bitches (there's, of course, overlap too):
- Bitches who got off with choking and hard slapping (which is nothing these days)
- Bitches with legit eating disorders (contrary to popular belief, that ROK article wasn't "trolling," it was just true)
- Bitches who cried for no reason, out of the blue, and then were happy 5 minutes later
- Bitches who were from prominently, even famously, religious families and were engaging in risky, raw-dog sex with me and taking Plan B the next day
- Bitches with a blank, 90% emotionless affect (one of my personal favorites)
A few days ago, I banged this odd chick on the first date. She had this weird quirk where she seemed like a total bitch for one minute, and then got nice for 20 minutes, only to seem like a mean bitch for another minute. It was like a cycle. She had a nice thigh gap, so I was went for the bang.
After the sex, she got up to go to the bathroom, to (hopefully) clean off her pussy. On the way there, she ran into my kitchen knives--these terrifying metallic monsters I regularly sharpen myself on whetstones. She grabbed them and started joking about stabbing me, taking an aggressive stance that, to be honest, didn't seem 100% normal goofing around.
Chick: "What if I grabbed these and attacked you. You'd be trapped."
Tuthmosis:
Tuthmosis: "Before you could even get over here, I will have beaten you down with that chair [a little chair right near my bed]. Now put those down before you dull them."
I'll probably bang her again.
There's some saying that if you stare at the monster in the face long enough, you
become the monster. I'm sure I didn't start off like this. But habitually banging these damaged American broads has given me certain appetites I'm now obligated to feed. Sooner or later all this shit is gonna catch up to me (or I'll move to country with some actual nice girls), but in the meantime: