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Ramblings From The Rust Belt Part 3

  • Written by Phet
  • August 1st, 2016
  • 15 min read



My last missive was another update on my life in the Black Country rust belt. I also reported I was probably about to enter a new phase in my life, but more of that later. I have received many comments from the Stickman congregation and was particularly appreciative of the notes of condolence I received for the passing of my mother for which I thank you all.

I discussed my latest experiences with internet dating sites and related how even hideous old fossils were demanding men with the three 6’s (6ft tall, 6 pack abs and a 6 figure salary). I was particularly annoyed by one specimen who only 5’3 herself considered my not being 6 ft tall a definite deal breaker. I believe the appropriate term is deluded.

Steve Rosse wrote expressing the opinion that the lady was merely being polite using that I was too short as an excuse because I smell. I enjoy the repartee and witty banter which is always appreciated, however the lady had not met me other than on the internet so she had no idea that I smell like a small African village. It did however get me thinking that maybe I am either completely undateable or I have not yet found a wizened old crone who is desperate enough to consider me.

I have enjoyed the recent series by “the Traveller” on the subject of internet dating sites. I like his wit and often smile at the similarities in some of our shared experiences. For the sake of my blood pressure I have now given up internet dating completely.

For years I have discussed many theories and given possible explanations (excuses?) for my lack of success with British women. I have related examples of the new paradigm where women are no longer dependant on men and this freedom has radically altered their behaviour and attitude.

I had also recognised some years ago that to be successful with the opposite sex you need youth, looks and money. At worst you need at least two of them and I appreciate I had neither.

Over the past few years I had subjected myself to all the misogynist ramblings of the MGTOW and PUA communities and am acquainted with red pill / blue pill thinking. I understand the concepts of Hypergamy, Misandry Solipsism and Gynocentrism. I even had an appreciation of the difference between Alpha and Beta males. Whilst I had absorbed far more masculine propaganda than was probably good for me I had somewhat of an epiphany recently that all this was not actually worth a knob of goat shit. All of this invective is only relevant when discussing women younger than 40 so none of it applies to me.


xxx


I am now 60 so I am realistically operating with women in the 50 to 65 age group age group although in reality I appear only of interest to women in the 65 to 75 bracket which prompts the plea that you put the pennies on my eyes already. With women over 50 the single overriding issue appears to be menopause.

Young women are completely controlled by their raging hormones which manifests as a total obsession with giving birth. As they enter their 30s with the biological time clock ticking it can take over their life as “baby rabies”. If they are successful in having babies the all consuming obsession with their offspring continues usually resulting in their husband being excluded and his needs totally ignored. It would appear that once the seed is planted they can discard the packet it came in.

As an aside this year was the first time since World War 2 that more children were born of mothers over the age of 40 than under the age of 20 in UK. What this means I am unsure but I will return to it sometime in the future.

The onset of menopause, usually around 50, coincides with the children growing up and fleeing the nest. It also entails the depletion of the female hormones that once made women irrational but also nurturing and caring. This results in women becoming more self-centred and less likely to hold their tongue. In other words they become more like men but without our creativity and tolerance.

Menopausal women begin to use the term “disgusting” somewhat indiscriminately and develop that pursing of their lips that resembles a cat’s arse. With their offspring gone they are likely to redefine their relationship with their husband and the probability of them walking out of their marriage becomes very high. This is confirmed in the statistic that 70% of divorces are now initiated by the females.

After menopause, women lose the swings of emotion and mature more rationally, so if a marriage survives the erratic menopause period, then men will have probably found a life long partner. Even though a woman's brain rewires itself after menopause to be more like a man, she is still a woman. Her ladies front bottom doesn’t heal up; rather, her irrational hormonal mood swings tone down and she has a better control over her actions and thought processes. This alone should make post-menopausal women very attractive to men of my antiquity.

However the reality is somewhat disappointing. My needs are simple but some of the specimens I encounter on my perambulations around the hostelries of my town are rude and repulsive. Even many 30 year olds are quite hideous so you can imagine the state of the 60 year old relics I stumble upon. To see a discernible waistline or a woman without distasteful tattoos is like finding a unicorn on a corporation rubbish tip.

I have mentioned this before but demographics also play a part in my forlorn quest. A recent survey suggested there were 600,000 single women over the age of fifty living in the UK. Of these only 17 % were seeking a partner. A basic understanding of statistics suggests half of this 17% will be above the age of 65 leaving 50,000 women between 50 and 65. It is a safe assumption that a third will be morbidly obese or hideously tattooed and a third will be either gruesome relics merely looking for an unpaid handyman and gardener. The remaining acceptable 16,000 will be dispersed throughout the UK. My native Birmingham and the Black Country constitutes 2% of the UK population so there are 330 eligible and acceptable single women aged between 50 and 65 in my area. That is 330 women spread across 4,000 square miles of the West Midlands conurbation which has a total population of nearly 5 million. This does suggest I am searching for the proverbial needle in a haystack.

Despite this I remain optimistic. I do know many wonderful women in their 50s I would be happy to spend my life with but unfortunately they are all married and unavailable to me. Many of my female friends remain surprised I have not been snapped up and have expressed the opinion I am a good man going to waste.

I must admit I have been spoiled by my Thailand experiences. It has resulted in a duality in my life if not slightly schizophrenic. In Thailand I become fussy and very selective. Meeting women in Thailand is like shooting fish in a barrel. There seems to be an unending supply of pretty young (and older) females to satisfy any taste. The only downside is it requires a lot of stamina to compensate for a year of celibacy within a short three week holiday.

In contrast when in the UK I was so starved of female companionship I was prepared to compromise my standards in the women I was willing to entertain. In fact I effectively cast adrift any sense of discernment. As the time from my Siamese sojourn increases my willingness to rationalise and make concessions increased accordingly. I will remark “she is not that fat really” or ”maybe I will not see that tattoo if she wears a long sleeve shirt”. I have caught myself say “So what if her personal hygiene leaves something to be desired or her language would make a stevedore blush, she has a pulse”. I cringe when I recall some of the gruesome creatures I have actually dated. One looked as if her face had been set on fire and put out with a shovel. Another couple were so fat it was like hugging an overstuffed sofa.

Fortunately all this is in the past. One advantage of a diminishing libido is I can raise my standards again without the compulsion of my base instincts. I can wait until I come across an acceptable woman. I am asked what I am actually seeking. My group of friends often discuss the famous women who turned us on in our youth. Although the like of Jane Fonda and Bo Derek are discussed we do come up with a few less obvious suggestions. My passion for Jenny Agutter and Bonnie Langford continues to this day and is a source of amusement. I would love an elegant striking trophy wife (or maybe a pleasant UK based Thai woman) but realistically an agreeable looking, good natured and reasonably intelligent woman who is not too fat is all I want.

I have thought about the major differences for British men in Thailand and the UK. One is that in Thailand it is easy to find a woman. I have many friends who have delightful and caring Thai wives. However I get the impression that it is difficult to make real friends and to have a rewarding social life amongst the expat community in Thailand. <Bingo!Stick>

In the UK it is relatively easy to make good friends with just a little effort. Finding an interesting social life is equally easy as there are limitless opportunities. However finding a suitable woman is becoming increasingly difficult. I love England and am proud of my country its culture and history. Although I complain about the dysfunctional behaviour of women I encounter and the politically correct stupidity our establishment impose on us, I am generally happy with my life in Britain. I have always felt I was only one assignation away from a meeting a cultured and elegant English woman who would sort me out and complete my life. I do appreciate this aspiration is definitely an example of blind hope over experience if not actually delusional but if we do not have hope we have nothing. The question remains would I give up my trips to Thailand in the unlikely event of this happening?


xxx


The biggest issue in the UK this year has been the EU Referendum. I appreciate the Stick site is not an appropriate forum for politics but I feel I should explain things to the Stickman congregation around the world. I make no apology in admitting I voted to leave the EU. The soles of my shoes did not set on fire and there was no plague of locusts as threatened by the establishment media if I had the temerity to vote against them.

It was not about economics (although the impending collapse of the Euro was a factor) but was about power and accountability. It was not just about immigration, we should welcome Indian doctors, Philippine nurses, Thai waitresses, Australian barman and US / Canadian IT experts with open arms. Unfortunately Angela Merkel and the incompetent technocrats of the EU turned a manageable refuge crisis into an invasion by thousands of angry third world men of fighting age. This has lead to a Europe riddled with Muslim terror cells and the women of Sweden and Germany terrorised by migrant rape gangs with every one too mealy mouthed to admit it.

The Brexit was actually a vote for democracy and our last chance to vote against the unaccountable Euro federalists, corrupt political establishment, globalist media, greedy bankers and multinational business ruling us. They contrived to neutralise our voice dismissing us as ignorant racists and xenophobes. Their plans for a United States of Europe would have seen the end of freedom and democracy and possible war with Russia.

I know some of my closest friends disagree violently with me as do the whiners of generation snowflake. The media have called us fascists and uneducated plebs which we are not but I believe we stuck two fingers up to the elites and saved democracy. One day the rest of the western world will thank us.


xxx



The other big topic has been the Euro football championship in France. The English team performed abysmally but the exciting thing was the amazing success of our Welsh neighbours. I live less than an hour from the border with Wales and love the Welsh people's music culture and accent. I have many Welsh friends so was ecstatic when the Wales team reached the semi finals.

The other big news from the Euros was the violence between Russian ultras and English fans. These alleged military-trained Russian thugs went to France with the sole intention of causing trouble and earning the reputation as being the most violent supporters in the world. Many years ago English fans had a bad reputation for hooliganism but this has been eradicated for a long time. For many years the travelling English fans are just ordinary guys who generally travel with their families. In fact the British authorities retain the passports of the known English hooligans preventing their travel to the tournament. Representatives of the British constabulary who travelled with the English fans suggested this was a mistake as it left the ordinary family fans exposed and undefended to these state sponsored Russian barbarians. The British police also condemned the characteristic ineptitude of the French police in Marseille who arrived long after the violence had subsided and proceeded to launch tear gas grenades on innocent bystanders with their usual incompetence.

However, when the English team faced Wales in the city of Lens the Welsh and English fans stood together in British solidarity. There was also an influx of some of the veteran British hooligan element who sneaked into France under the radar. These old campaigners organised the Welsh and English fans and in a defence worthy of a military operation they gave the Russian thugs a thorough and unexpected good hiding. The cream of Russian brutalism returned to the motherland with their tails firmly between their legs.


xxx


My mother’s funeral went as well with as these things can but I am relieved it is over. I still have much to do to sort her affairs but within a few months I could end up with a few bob in my ass pocket. For the first time in 10 years I will have a little security and can look beyond the horizon of surviving the next month. We also have her house to consider which is a 3 bed semi detached (with no mortgage) on a very pleasant housing estate, an inheritance I share with my brother. I now have a choice. I could bite the bullet, sell up and move to Thailand. I have no doubt I could find a Thai lady who would look after me, at least until my money ran out.

However I am reticent to do so. I would not be able to find employment and would quickly end up without sufficient resource to retire comfortably. I still have a few years of potential earnings in the west before I can consider retirement. I am optimistic about the new Elite training centre which opens next year and would like to give it a couple of years or so before retiring.

I have been advised by my solicitor and accountant friends to buy out my brother's share of the house making me a man of property again. I have argued that this would leave me with no cash to which they declare I have had no money for ten years so what will be new? It could act as my pension scheme and it would certainly save me the cost of renting the flat which alone could fund at least one Thailand trip a year. My landlord has already notified me he is looking to sell the flat within the next year or so, this could be timely.

My pals worry about me and consider I need looking after especially if I move into a bigger house. They want me to settle down with a fat old trout that would cook and clean and occasionally warm my bed. My preference would be to have a Thai lady live with me but with the new immigration laws I have probably missed the boat on importing a Thai female from the kingdom. My track record with UK based Thai women suggests this option is also unlikely. What will likely happen is I will split the job of a wife, engage a kindly housekeeper to clean on a fortnightly basis and pay a young courtesan to remove the hump from my back on a monthly basis. This would be considerably cheaper than taking on a wife and would also allow me to spend more time in Thailand to carefully examine if I actually want to retire to the kingdom.

I have been contemplating making a short visit to Thailand in September but fear the pressures from an increasing work load may prevent this. My Ashford project must be completed in December and my eldest son is getting married on the day before Christmas Eve which puts paid to a December visit. The alternative is to fly out just after Christmas and spend January in the kingdom. I appreciate being high season it will be more expensive but I have been tucking a few bob away for this purpose so why not? I believe most of the friends I correspond with on the Stickman site also visit the kingdom in January so there is an opportunity to meet up with a few of them. I hope to report an update on my plans in my next missive so watch this space.


xxx