Stiff Wenches And Unreasonable Expectations
Having finally completed my travel reports for the trip I took to Thailand earlier in March I can now relax. I have fulfilled my perceived obligation to my fellow Stickmanites and can return to my preferred pastime of observing the vagaries and perverse behaviour of British womanhood and reporting on my pisspot adventures in the less than salubrious bars of my Black Country home.
I was pleasantly surprised by the interest and mild debate evoked by my last three missives which was wonderful in that it indicated that there are still fellows who are pleased I am still alive and suggested there is still life and potential in the Stickman site if only the sainted Stick pulls his head from his annular orifice and begins penning his weekly column again even if he is doing it for no income. It is just too good to let die.
I was impressed at the recent submission about me by Sydney and must confess the old bugger has certainly got the measure of me. There are a few other Stickmanites who have completely sussed me out, my old pals Tom and Stevie to name only two of a dozen or so who have seen through my façade and completely understand my nonsense for what it is.
Sydney made a valid point that true love and a long-term relationship had evaded me but I had not given much thought to it of late and had been somewhat philosophical about this situation. I had become comfortable in my own skin (other than my laziness) and concluded the last thing I need was a relationship with a girlfriend, British or otherwise.
When I have tendered my observations on the paradigm changes in western womanhood in the past I am sure many have thought I was merely making excuses for my lack of success and I am just a sad old tosser. Guilty as charged, your honour and ask for several other offences to be taken into consideration.
I am now 62, my sexual desire has diminished, not completely, but enough so I can engage women with a degree of objectivity and not be clouded by the sexual imperative. I don’t stand mute with my tongue hanging limply from my mouth and my dick in hand when conversing with females any more. I have become more selective and discriminating in the women I engage with. I certainly no longer put females on a pedestal.
I certainly don’t get the unnecessarily nasty rejections I used to experience as little as two or three years ago. In some ways this is a little disappointing, although some of the snubs I received were just mean-spirited (in your dreams, you old fart). Many were unintentionally amusing and provided good material for my interminable anecdotes.
Two incidents come to mind. Both ladies were tolerably attractive, dressed well but could be described as big units (or stiff wenches as my late mother would say). After a pleasant date I thought successful, the one lady texts me to say although she enjoyed my company she did not feel a “spark”. My reply was that if I thought she needed a spark I would have tasered her was not well received for some reason.
The second incident involved a phone message following a date. This one informed me she thought I was the most amusing and entertaining guy she had met for some years but was really looking for someone rather taller and much better looking than me. I was not offended but somewhat amused as it confirmed the sense of entitlement and mild delusion so prevalent amongst western women of a certain age.
Western culture has drastically changed in the 50 years since the advent of feminism and cultural Marxism in our society. The perceptions and expectations of women of all ages have been radically changed. It has particularly effected women over 40. The L’Oreal because your worth it mantra and TV shows like Sex In The City have unrealistically raised the expectations of older women. They now expect (nay …are entitled to) everything the feminist media promised and that includes a tall handsome rich man 10 years younger than themselves.
The most desirable men for women of all ages are those in the 30 to 40 age group. Men of this group have accumulated resources, are economically viable, confident and virile. These men are the obvious target group for young women in their 20’s seeking a husband and the future father of their children. This is how it should be.
However, I am seeing many women even in their mid-50s are still seeking men in this desirable 30 to 40-age range. They declare they wouldn’t consider a fat balding bloke of their own age or older. The sad thing is that even a cursory glance in the mirror at their sagging figures and wrinkled visage would apprise them that they cannot hope to compete for the attention of young men with girls in their 20s with their slim bodies, glowing skin and a general youthful fertility. Yet they remain deluded, but more on this later.
From my own perspective at 62, I am out of the game. I hold no attraction for women in their 40s or 50s. The only women interested in me are 70 plus hence my joke about being nicknamed the number 74 bus as it is only pensioners who want to climb aboard me.
For young girls below 30 the rules of hypergamy still apply. Hypergamy is the age-old practice of girls marrying up and men marrying down. This applies to both their economic situation and physical looks. Experts in this field refer to SMV (Sexual market value) and MMV (Marriageable market value). There is a subtle difference between the two measures but both rely on the universal 1 to 10 grading as the basis. This grading is founded the premise that Susan Boyle is a 2 and Megan Fox is a 9. The grading 10 is reserved for mythical women like Cleopatra or Helen of Troy although in my opinion Elisabeth Taylor and Catherine Zeta Jones at their best would register a 9.5 on this scale.
All women are seeking men who are 9 or 10 on this measure irrespective of their own positioning on the scale. This may be delusional but is the natural law of hypergamy to date up. Even girls who register a mere 5 or 6 want and expect to pull a man 8 or 9. Whilst girls are in their 20s, they may certainly get laid by the male players in the 8 or 9 categories because all young men are natural horn dogs who will indiscriminately shag anything on offer. This is quite natural but these women should not delude themselves that these guys want them other than to pump and dump them.
There are several problems with western / English womanhood but I cannot fail to observe just how fat the average British female is becoming. They are not just a little chubby; some are borderline obese.
In my local “The Benefit Claimer’s Arms” on a Saturday night I see some of the prettiest girls in the world but the ones with a discernible waistline are all aged 16 to 20. As a young man you would need to catch them before they are 22 before the fat grenade explodes. It is quite shocking to see how young women let themselves go at such a young age. Most of these girls are lovely and I know their families so it is so sad to see.
What is even more disturbing is to see the acceptance of young men to these tubs of lard. Have they gone blind or has society brainwashed them into acceptance of fat women even in their 20s as normal. I am afraid I never got that memo.
There are a few theories about this. One is after the age of 16 the fat fairy visits these poor girls every night and inserts a cycle pump into their anal orifice whilst they sleep. They are inflated by increments until their 25th birthday they possess an arse like two bags of shopping. Apparently it is not their fault, it is obviously some alien interference or just their glands, as is often cited.
Another theory is that at the age of 16 they discover Greggs, McDonald’s and takeaway pizzas. These are best consumed watching TV soaps on a comfy sofa ensuring any self-restraint goes out the window. One also cannot discount the effect of the binge drinking culture that young women have adopted in recent years. The idea of a good Friday night out is to get steaming drunk and end the evening passed out in a pool of vomit on the pub carpark. It is so sad.
All women lose points on their marriageable market value as they age and can lose a point for every five years. If in their 20s they are an 8 by 25 they are a 7, at 30 a 6 and by the time they are 35 are a 5. Between the ages of approximately 30 to 35 women experience the phenomenon known as the wall. This is the point when they recognise the reality of their ageing, the impending biological time clock and that their best years were wasted riding the cock carousel instead of finding a decent marriable bloke, they then experience fear if not a mild panic.
If they are single mothers their worth depreciates much faster. Her SMV may follow the normal entropy as they will always find some male horn dog to screw them. However, their MMV (ability to secure a husband) will fall drastically. It will be 6 at 25, 4 at 30, 2 at 35 and they are invisible at 40. They will quickly discover that no eligible, solvent man is interested in a relationship with a single mother and becoming a stepfather to her children, no matter what her feminist sisters say.
100% of women are chasing the top 10% of men. Common sense should tell them that all of them cannot succeed so about 90% will be disappointed. When they finally realise this, and acknowledge if they don’t want to end up as a lonely old cat lady some compromise is required. Not achieving their desire often evokes bitterness which the poor guy she has settled on will be the major recipient of.
Men are far more pragmatic and don’t expect to pull females above their level. A sensible fellow with a grading of 7 will date girls who are a 6 but pay to shag 8s or 9s, if he has the resources.
I am an amateur anthropologist and notice there are approximately 100 available girls in the sexually active age group 18 to 35 who visit my local over a month. I have established that at least 50% of them are being shagged by just two guys. I have always suspected there is a natural harem tendency in women.
Imagine you are back in the cavemen days. Poor Su is sitting in her flimsy hut trying to cook squirrel meat on a meagre fire. In the large cave opposite Ugg the alpha male has six women who are feeding on mastodon steaks and luxuriating in furs from sabre toothed tigers he has provided. Su’s man Nigel catches only squirrels and rabbits. She enviously watches the girls in Ugg’s cave enjoying the good life and thinks about them having a share of the impressive Ugg and licking each other’s fannies whilst Ugg is out hunting. She desperately would like to join the harem and share their lifestyle instead of her paltry existence with Nigel.
I am friendly with many of the young girls who frequent my local, and they treat me like a kindly uncle and often seek my counsel on attracting good men. My advice to them is stay slim, dress well and don’t be crazy.
These days I don’t often personally see the perverse behaviour of women that I used to do but I recently had an experience that did disconcert me a little.
My best mate Devin has a cousin Elaine who I have been friends with for many years. She is an attractive lady, albeit a little on the stiff side and is a couple of years younger than me. We often go out together, occasionally with the gang but sometimes to dinner just the two of us. I know I have been firmly in the friend zone with her but this has not unduly concerned me as she is pleasant company, she pays her round and I have always felt we were good mates.
A few weeks ago, my mate Devin informed me that her brother had been diagnosed with cancer and suggested I contact her to cheer her up. I texted her asking if she wanted to go out for lunch or a drink to raise her spirits. She answered she would like to but only as a friend as she was not looking for anything else.
I was incensed at her reply and immediately answered with I wasn’t offering anything else! She later apologised but the damage was done. I haven’t spoken to her since. My pal Devin could not comprehend my annoyance with her. I explained that in the many years of our friendship I had never made a pass at her and expected a little more respect. I know all women irrespective of status are always expecting someone like Brad Pitt or George Clooney to sweep them away. What she implied in her reply to me was she was not looking for ME which I considered both unnecessary and disrespectful knowing our history. Maybe not everyone will understand my annoyance but I was saddened that even as an old friend of many years she suffered from the delusion that her fanny was lined with gold.
I still have my friendship with Claire, the daughter of my late friend Phil. I set her on as a metallurgy trainee at the age of 16 and mentored her for 10 years. She is my most successful protégé, now holding a position as international trouble-shooter for a major car producer and is now definitely financially independent. At 44 she is still stunning and appeared to never hit the wall and is still attracting young handsome blokes some 10 to 15 years younger than herself who regularly knock the back out of her. Even at 44 she is a solid 7 if not an 8. My two sons have always liked her and she comes out with me twice a week, principally because she has become addicted to singing at karaokes with me.
Although I am firmly in the friend zone with her it is great for me to be seen with her as it enhances my reputation. She always drives and pays her round. I know many women become inquisitive as to why a grey-haired old geezer like me is seen with a striking young beauty as her. This has got me introductions to many new female friends.
I have this month picked up a few new teaching groups around the country which could give me a reasonable income for the next year or so but will mean I will again be away from home two or three weeks every month. It is clear I require looking after and will need a housekeeper and possibly a personal care worker. My ex English wife immediately offered her services. Although we are friendly I am reticent about extending our current arrangement and letting her move in with me. Would it be acceptable to ask for a prenuptial agreement with a housekeeper?
Knowing I will once again be spending time away again in hotels I am reminded of an anecdote from a few years ago. I recall many hotels had a Gideon bible left in one’s room. A quick perusal of the inside covers would reveal the phone numbers of the local escort services and prostitutes left by previous occupants. I recall phoning one of the numbers requesting a visit but advised the young lady that she come the back way as the receptionist was a miserable old bitch to be avoided. My conversation is interrupted by the hotel receptionist informing me I needed to dial 9 to get an outside line.
I have a few decisions to make about my life. I have just enough work to keep the wolf from the door. I have a small cash inheritance from my mother which if I am very careful will supplement my income for the next 3 or 4 years till I officially retire. The nature of my employment means I don’t have to retire at 66 but the travelling wearies me. I have half shares in my mother’s house which I thought of as a pension scheme. I had plans to make improvements and rent it out for a couple of years to generate an income. I was however thwarted by the interference and opposition from my brother’s wife, stepdaughters, sister in law, and anyone in his extended family who felt they were missing out on something. Up to this I had been undertaking all the arrangements with our mother’s affairs with no help from them so I threw my dummy out of the pram and told them I would do nothing further until their interference ceased.
After a few months with nothing happening I realise an opportunity is being missed and I must do something irrespective of my infuriation, and I do have a few plans to take control of the situation again. I think that the asset my mother’s house represents could be the avenue for realising my vision of partially retiring to Thailand.
I confess I still have the dream of retiring, or at least spending half my year in Thailand and half my year in Blighty. I can see me spending half the year in England doing some teaching jobs to supplement my pension and living with my ex English wife during this time. The other half of the year I would live in Thailand probably in Udon Thani with my ex Thai wife Nat possibly operating a modest statue casting operation in one of her properties as an income stream.
I acknowledge that many of my pals will think I have lost my senses becoming involved again with two women who have already cuckolded me but I have discussed my plan with both my ex-wives who have both expressed they would be happy with the arrangement. My ex English wife has expressed she would be relaxed with me continuing my current lifestyle seeing Clare and my other female friends. My Thai ex-wife has suggested I still visit my pals in Bangkok or Pattaya once a month if I lived with her. I appreciate I am running out of time to establish any new arrangements. Sometimes you are better with the devil you know…we shall see.
However, this is for the future, and my immediate concern is the painful hernia I currently have which needs operating on with all good speed. Knowing my luck, the hospital will call me in to operate in early December when I was hoping to make a visit to Thailand, but mai pen rai, as they say – I will just have to postpone it till the new year, Thailand will still be there.
The dreaded festival of Christmas will soon be upon us and how I survive its nonsense may determine my plans. As always, I ask you to watch this space.
It’s always nice to hear what’s happening in your life in Blighty.
To respond to the suggestion you make about me resuming the writing of a weekly column, it’s unlikely to happen, I am afraid. It’s nice to be missed and quite a lot of people have encouraged me to resume, but as I have explained from the outset, the time commitment i too great for something I would not be compensated for. I *do* have plans to write a weekly column on November 26th. That date will mark 3 months since I stopped writing the column. It will be a collection of my thoughts on life after the column and an update of where I am at. For now, I am still looking quietly for the next opportunity. There are many opportunities out there but I am just not willing to pursue something I am not that keen on and my heart is not in. Life is much too short to spend several hours a day working on something you don’t like or care for.
The author of this submission can be contacted at : firstname.lastname@example.org