The Dating Gods

A bunch of men exist who know exactly how to 'level up' with women. These are the guys who have the instinctive ability to find, bed and wed the most desirable females at will. They don't need to even think about it.

We meet these dudes in high school. They're the ones who always had a girlfriend, and kept her with their smile alone. They're also the guys who had sex with their girlfriends, effortlessly, and, given their confidence, more competently than men double their age. They're the guys who just knew shit about girls, and apparently always did, as if they'd been kissed on the dick by a fairy at birth.

You know the type, right? Guys like this were a step above and beyond mere journeyman women-lovers like me. Even at this distance, I could name them all from my Year 12 class. I can see them now, flirting with their many female admirers, making it look easy. How could they keep that group of seventeen-year-old-hormone-addled schoolgirls rapt for the entire lunch-hour? It just wasn't fair.

Ahem.

At a guess, they make up somewhere south of 5% of the male population. And they're not all handsome, sporty types, either. Sometimes they are simply good communicators, or they're funny, or skilled at operating in groups. Oftentimes they look to be working effortlessly, because although they care, they never look like they care. It's a form of magic.

I chose my metaphor about 'leveling up' carefully. Especially in high school, the precise status of the relationship you have with your girlfriend is calibrated in very fine increments. Just where you are on the road to hands-in-her-pants or bare breastedness is measured zipper-tooth by bra-hook. This might be because all of this is general knowledge - after all, what's the point of finally getting your finger wet if no-one in the school quadrangle knows about it? High-school dating is nothing if not a group ritual.

'Leveling up' is from the gaming world, of course, the other obsession of teenaged boys. The irony is that those nerd-types who can easily level-up in video world demonstrate inversely proportional skills in a real life world filled with females. The nerdy types might know all the hacks to reach the ultimate game level, but the 5 percenters know all the hacks to get to the ultimate girl level.

So here we are, years later, and I still see the 5 percenters getting all the babes. Some of them turned out to be gay, for sure. Others kept leveling up, and, unable to settle, are still measuring their lives by numbers of ladies bedded. But I think most of them married (good lookers) and had all the same difficulties in life as everyone else. Still and all, they have that effortlessness that most of us will forever envy, even if they are totally unaware of it.


Bottoms Up, All-Knowing Ones.

All That She Wants Is Another Baby

Headline from twenty years hence:

Woman Conceives: Father Admits to Lying About Birth Control. 

I guess that male chemical contraception - by pill or injection - isn't far away.

You can picture it now: A couple arrive at her apartment in a cab, all bra-straps and breathless. They can't take their hands off each other. On the ride up in the elevator, they grind in the corner. Inside, they pause for a moment on the threshold, kissing deeply. She takes him by the hand to her bedroom. Clothes come off, then she stops:

"You are firing blanks, aren't you?" She asks.

He smiles smugly. "Of course. I had my HeroShot last week. I'm good 'til June."

"In that case....c'mere and fuck me" she growls.


Fortunes can be made if you can predict headlines from the future. The difficult ones will make you the most, easier ones not so much. Even I can predict those, like the one I opened with. The trend of women adopting male behaviour is well entrenched. Rates of binge drinking, violence and infidelity among women are heading towards those of men, presumably a consequence of the move to "gender equality", although quite what women gain from equality in these areas escapes me.

The other social elephant in the room is the fact of declining birthrates. Now that's been a kind of under-the-fold headline for a decade or so, but I predict that too will change. (Making my opening headline even more prescient, BTW.) Western countries face huge problems with declining populations starting about now. Asian countries will follow, and only the continent of Africa will be growing by mid-century.

No-one remembers a man called Paul Ehrlich. He wrote a book in the 1970s, The Population Bomb, in which he posited the decline of humans because we were too numerous. In fact, time will show that he was 180 degrees out with his predictions, that our biggest problems will come simply from there being too few of us.

I'm going to counter his Population Bomb idiocy with a theory of my own. By 2050, the most valuable event on earth will be a natural pregnancy. We might live to regret that male pill.



Bottoms Up, Conceptors.

All The Power. Women Have All the Power.

 Elisabetta Gregoraci photo credit.

I know she was testing me, because no other explanation works.


The casually over-opened blouse, the lingering lean-over, these are the weapons of war. It's not a conventional war - in the parlance, this is an asymmetric battle.

Winning and losing are fuzzily defined. For instance, do I win or lose by giving into temptation, allowing my gaze to drop below her neck?  The upside is that I see some bra, definitely, and some portion of breast.
 .
If I steel myself and exhibit self-restraint by not checking her out, does she notice and figure that she needs more firepower next time? Or is she disgusted by failure to compliment her with a gaze at her goodies? 

Either way, I am outgunned and suffer from hopeless intelligence.


Bottoms Up, Wandering Eyes.

Friday Fluffer - Lingerie Football

Game on!

In case you missed it, the best spectator sport ever devised is back. The Lingerie Football League championship is under way, the (sadly, short) season culiminating in February with the Lingerie Bowl. [link]

My team is the Tampa Bay Breeze, who lost their first game last weekend. They're a mix of young and experienced comers though, so don't be surprised if they go all the way. [link]

If I was running the league, the first thing I'd change would be the names. [link] Tampa Bay Breeze? WTF? More like the Tampa Bay Tush. Or the Tampa Bay Ta-Tas, or even the Tampa Bay Trim.

Okay, so it should be about the lingerie. The Tampa Bay Bustiers? Tampa Bay Brassieres?

Either way, these ladies rock.






Photograph from here. [link]

Romance

Here is a list of words direct from my brain, the result of a self-administered word-association exercise. The word? Romance.

corsets
kissing
flowers
lingerie
perfume
gifts
heels
hotels
lovey-dovey
what women want
emotions
buttons
bra hooks
spooning
holding
candlelight
wine
cheap fiction
Heathcliff
Emily Brontë
frock coats

And so on.

Disappointingly pedestrian, I'm sure you'll agree.

So if we're looking for more than just a hook-up, something greater than sex, is romance that thing? And if so, what is romance? Is it about longing and unrequited desire, or is it sex after a nice dinner?

Romance. It's this week's focus.

Romance Part 2, Romance Part 3, Romance Part 4.

Kiss and Tell

I often wish I had a Secret Squirrel video camera, a fabbo gadget worthy of James Bond. I would use it to record conversations with men when they're talking about sex, and show the results to women.

Huge generalization, but there would be basically three kinds of conversations:

Did you boff that girl, what's her name, Laura, last night?

Nah. But I'll be upending her real soon, I know it.

Cool.

~~~~~~~~~~

Or, alternatively:

So did you boff that girl, what's her name, Laura, last night?

Yep.

How was it?

Let me tell you my friend, I am the studdliest of studs.

Is she any good in the cot?

Yep.

~~~~~~~~~~

And finally:

Did you boff that girl, what's her name, Laura, last night?

Nope. She basically told me to get lost.

Shit.

Yep.

~~~~~~~~~~

I can tell you that talking in depth about sex isn't something most guys I know are good at. When we're shooting the breeze, the concern is more about being seen to be potent - the strength or flavour of the encounter (or any other nuance for that matter) is less important than the fact that we're getting some.

Opening up with details leaves us vulnerable to criticism of our technique and possible derision. It's the ego talking, but we tend to think of ourselves as Vicomte Sébastien de Valmont; sexually expert, devastatingly knowledgeable, and utterly irresistable. Plus an expert in Latin.

It's a terrible conceit, and obviously fallacious. But admitting to a buddy that you fumbled her bra clasp, couldn't find her clitoris, almost shoved it up her arse, and couldn't figure out if she came would be way too embarrassing.

Instead we say next to nothing. Life is simpler that way.

Wire Fraud

Whenever the FBI catches a big time criminal, my impression is that the charge they often use is "wire fraud". As a catch-all way to get an arrest, I'm sure it works a treat, allowing the G-Men time to pressure their suspect and troll through the product of their searches.

Of course why Mafia types are replacing real wire with string or rolled-up tin-foil is a mystery. Surely the big money is in running hookers or collecting garbage or providing garbage for people to shoot up.

Pssst. Wanna buy six reels of wire? It's almost as good as the genuine stuff.

Wire fraud got me to thinking about women with underwire bras, and the alleged internet/Oprah "fact" that 85% of women are wearing an incorrectly sized bra. Seems like a rather large oversight to me, by rather a large number of women.

Then I found this and forgot all about it.



How To Put On A Bra 101 - Celebrity bloopers here