Feedback from the Great Land of Female Infallibility
Yea, behold letters from the western readership! Where every woman is delivered by immaculate conception and every man is the spawn of Satan. Or so I was told...
This update is the first I have been able to make in a long time. In the months since I stopped making regular updates, I still received quite a few good messages from readers. I posted them as soon as I was able to prepare them for viewing. As more reader mail comes-in, I'll keep making updates. I apologize for giving anyone the impression that I was hanging-up the towel for good.
This latest issue of reader feedback is mainly a dozen or so men who wish to demonstrate that the idea of female decency can be spoken-about in the same way our ancestors spoke about the earth's flatness. Tisdall's avalanche of an email which I've posted at the bottom was especially fun to read. Quite a few anecdotes to add to the pile-- all this, plus the bilious ravings of the most high-on-herself squawker I've seen in many a month (Michelle).
I would like to make some commentary
before you get to Michelle's graffiti far below. I think there are two great ways
of meeting American female nutball writers on the I-net. One is by sitting in
your armchair and clicking through the endlessly gibbering gurl-zines and adorably
prattling e-boards which have multiplied across cyberspace like tuberculosis on
a lung.
The other way is to make a web-page entitled "Women Suck".
Then the female nutballs will naturally gravitate to you! Whenever I get
an angry message from American chicks, I smile broadly. My reaction is simply
this: the sender is terrified that I am uncomfortably accurate about her. The
angrier and more indignant she sounds, the more terrified she is. And when she
lashes-out by attacking my grammar, my girlfriend, the collective worthlessness
of gaijin men who stoop to date Japanese females and my inexperience with an alien
cultural environment... well my friend, that only indicates I've scored a bull's-eye.
(Tee-hee!)
A few odd things sometimes get thrown into relief when you look
at the criticism I've gotten over the past year. At least one of my
infallibly omniscient female critics suggested that I don't have
enough self-esteem to interface with the awesome glory that is the North American
female. And another suggested my fragile male ego can't handle the fiery, rapier-like
forcefulness of a REAL
woman --like herself, no doubt-- and I can only feel like a man when
I have an unliberated slave kissing my arse all day long. So, a low self-esteem
was the reason why I had romantic failures in the past, I must be happy with
who I am and stop acting like I am not good enough for a North American chick.
Only when I get a high self-esteem will I not be such a sorry-ass loser. (See
Criticism #8.)
Yes there is obviously a massive undercurrent of self-flattery and narcissism
buried within both examples of sentiment, but each chick insisted that their respective
views were fact.
But the oddest thing is, I have always considered
myself to be awesome boyfriend material. I think I actually don't have
a low self-esteem, I just show a bit of humility in public now and then. I think
I deserve a great girlfriend! In fact, I think that North American chicks are
substandard compared to what I deserve. Mainly because of all the disrepair
and misery they breed and all the arrogant, in-your-face, psychotic yipping they
continuously emit. Oh, I'm repeating myself again...
Anyway- Michelle, our most recent neck-biting schnauzer, is very open about how she despises the fact
I am contented with myself. Among her rapid-fire scowlings: I am a poor writer,
I need therapy, me noo speekie Ingleesh, and my girlfriend is a half-wit. Furthermore,
if me get more dumb, me be Gomer Pyle. Therefore, it's indisputable-- I don't
deserve to be happy with who I am! I actually am not good enough
for the awesome glory of American women! I have a stupidly high level of
self-esteem!
So by blending this piping stew of criticism, we see that American women are infallible while my self-esteem is too low and too high all at once. Yeah, okay. Whatever flies your balloon, honey! (Laff!) But do you notice the common thread which binds the different messages together? The female side of the equation is never in error, it is not even a possibility. Irrespective of any evidence you would hold-up before their very eyes. Evidence be damned, North American chicks are never wrong. Nope, never.
That is part of their charm.
Hence, I have arrived at the title for today's update: Feedback from the Great Land of Female Infallibility.
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To change tracks for a sec, there's one piece of news from home that is especially worrying to me. You might want to keep one eye on this bit of recent legislation: the Universal Military Training and Service Act- H.R. 3598. (Go to Legislative Information on the Internet and do a search for HR 3598.) This little firecracker aims to bring back the draft, stating: "ALL males residing in the U.S. between the ages of 18-22 (must) receive military training for at least 6 months." Voluntary enlistment in this training is offered for women. ("Oooh let's try it out, Cynthia! What fun!")
We don't want the ladies to feel excluded. But at the same time, we don't want them to feel forced
either. But of course, you know the training program will have its standards compromised
to accommodate females, no doubt. Don't want them to have a level playing
field, do we?
Remember I suggested in this
article that the draft might come-back one day? Well if this bill doesn't
get defeated, get ready for boot-camp fellas. The ambulatory cum-recepticles of
America need protection- unless the cum-recepticles feel like volunteering,
naturally. If they fancy a bit of hiking, we'd like them to have the opportunity...
This law could potentially be worse than the Vietnam-era draft. In the present-day bill, limited deferments are mentioned for college seniors only. Escaping to Canada probably isn't an option either: in December 2001, the U.S. and Canada signed a "Smart Border Declaration" which implements, among other things, a "pre-clearance agreement" of people entering and departing each country. Conceivably, this could be extended to send draft-objectors back south.
The war machine needs human fuel for its grand crusade against an abstract concept
(terrorism) which therefore makes the battle inherently unwinnable. We're at war
with a concept, not a country- it can't be won! Oh, I'd love
to destroy the concept of terrorism... but every time I even say that 't'
word, it just reappears again. Of course, many of the (male and female)
Congressional backers of this bill have avoided military service themselves; and
they will create loopholes to keep the children of their wealthy constituents
out of this training. Bet on it.
Furthermore, the White House is insanely
horny to charge into an ill-advised Gulf War II at the teeniest provocation. Here
is how it will probably go: the 101st Airborne and the SAS will have to fight
house-to-house through Baghdad. Chemical warfare units will have to decontaminate
everything that might be exposed to Sarin and/or anthrax. Army Engineers will
have to extinguish flaming oil fields and clear half a million land-mines. And
the female soldiers of the U.S. military will be called-upon to reinforce our
ambassador's residence in Stockholm. They will get medals for it, too.
Bah. I don't have to experience a fire-fight to know that I want no part in one. Being in a military conflict can definitely shorten your life in one way or another.
Consider this: while 147 US troops were KIA'd in the Gulf War, almost 7,800 have died since then and close to 200,000 (or 28%) have filed claims for medical, disability and compensation benefits. (Read more here.) The UK figures are proportionately similar, and of the 537 UK vets that have died after the Gulf War, a full 70% killed themselves. What caused their long medical suffering? No one really knows. It might've been the unproved bio-warfare vaccines the troops were given before Desert Storm. Or the radioactive residue from the tons of depleted-uranium shells that were fired. Or the fact that more than 100,000 soldiers were downwind when U.S. forces set-off demolition-blasts at an Iraqi chemical weapons depot at Khamisiyah (whoops, sorry). Whatever happened to those soldiers, it sure as hell wasn't good for them.
If I was in the specified age-group for compulsory military training, I'd prolly want to pack my duffel bags and vamoose to... I dunno... Japan, maybe?
That's my solution for everything, isn't it?
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Another gem from The Onion...
Anyway, enough of my bellyaching over war and politics and coagulating monthly discharges... Let's get to the good stuff, starting-off with a quick quote by Pushkin: "Chem men'she zhenschinu myi lyubim, tem bol'she nravimsya myi yey". That is to say, "The less we love women, the more they like us."
You cannot appreciate Pushkin until you've read him in the original Klingon.
So sit-back and order a spinach calzone. Here is a heaping spoonful of reader feedback...
Bakerman, (a guy) writes:
Hello NiceGuy, I will try and keep this as short as possible, but ive got some stuff to say.... personally, you are living the dream I have been having for the last year.
First off, I too am a "NiceGuy". I am in my sophmore year of high school, and I HATE my school. Well, not the school, more like all the damn bitches who go there. Quite simply, I am outcasted because I am a nice guy. Its always the same bullshit described extensively by you. I've never even been kissed by a girl yet, nor have I had a relationship with anyone. About this time last year, a began to be interested in Japanese culture, and from there it just grew like a wildfire. I began to read and learn more about it, and it just sounded like salvation from this shithole called America.
Then I met "Lyka". She was a Japanese exchange student. At first I never really fell for her as for most of the year I never realized how much I loved her culture. Around the last month of school, I fell for her HARD. She was, and still is, the only girl I have known not to end up a catty bitch. She was perfect, our interests were exactly alike, our personality clicked, and she really was cute. I walk up to her, ready to confess my love, and then she dropped the bomb. In two months she would be going back to Japan. That was the worst day of my life. I cried endlessly and I fell into a bit of a depression. Over the summer, I began to stop listening to American Music and only listen to J-pop. I made plans that as soon as college was over I would leave to Japan, half joking.
Flash forward to today. I'm going to a new school which was just built and life royally fucking sucks. No japanese students, just pure shit. I found your site a week after school started and it cheered me up, now knowing that there is hope out there. I took an oath to never get romantically involved with any American girl, only allowing foreigners to enter my heart, and its quite hard. All the girls here appear friendly, until they take a fuggin dagger and stab it straight through you, twist it around, and then pour lemon in the wound, just to make sure it really hurts. I have been further outcasted by the social system, many even think I am gay. This is probably because I am straight caucasian, and I simply despise white girls now. I have been called gay, queer, faggot, wannabe asian, etc by the majority of the school. Even almost all of my friends have turned their backs on me. I hate every day here, and the only thing keeping me alive is the hope of going Japan. To top it all off, most of my family thinks I'm stupid, naive, or just plain gay. Just two days ago, I had a huge yelling argument with my cousin over Japan, who I thought understood me. I have heard "WTF is wrong with you?, You are fucking white, not Asian,You can't deny your heritage! , Your grandfather and other Americans sacrificed themselves fighting the Japanese!" (Oh, fer crying out loud. It's traitorous to so much as show tolerance for other countries nowadays... -- NG) Too many times to count. I am crucified for wanting to leave the country. I am one bitter person. It has been accused that "Because you choose Japan over America that is why you don't fit in." Even though I have been outcasted before I found my hope, if anything American society just led me to Japan. I will admit that I am nearly clinically depressed. I hope and pray that America will wake up to all of its hypocrisy and realize that there are other nations out there. So far, I have kept good on my oath of dating only foreigners (of which there are none where I live), but now a flaw has come up. An American girl is starting to dethaw my frozen heart. She understands me, and she may wnat to be with me. What am I to do? It is like two sides of me are fighting constantly. I can't read her well, but SHE has made the advancements to talk to me. I just don't know anymore. I hope to live a life in Japan seven years from now, if only to try and reverse my bitterness that has slowly been taking over me.
Enjoy your life, and I hope one day I will enjoy mine.
(Me too. Happiness is truly a state of mind. I think one of the keys to happiness is not an abundance of "stuff", but rather a teeny number of material wants. -- NG)
Sepiroth (a guy) writes:
NiceGuy,
I'm a fifteen year old American male who happened to stumble upon your site some time ago. At first I thought it was some kind of baseless misogynist rant. About... Once year ago, I began to get my feet wet in the dating pool. I should note that I've always been attracted to Asian women over American, but never knew why. As not being your typical I-have-to-get-into-her-pants, superficial kind of guy, I found a wholesome girl and things went off as I expect most first relationships do. Things are great for a short time and it ends up evolving into something completely undesirable. My first girlfriend, Diana, completely Chinese through heritage, was born in America. She was (I use "was" because I am no longer acquainted with her.) very intelligent and a natural problem solver. She was quite effervescent and outgoing. We spent a few fun months together, though we weren't able to spend as much time together as we would've liked. Things began to sharply take a turn for the worst during the last month. I have chronic depression and sometimes can be very hard to talk to. We'd still talk normally and frequently. One night though, I was feeling particularly bad and said I didn't want to talk to anyone (Which I told her includes her.) Apparently, she spent the rest of the night complaining to her friend about what a horrible boyfriend I was. She gave me nothing but the highest praise and affection... So I never knew she felt this way. It seems she'd not been telling me little times when I'd make her angry or do something to annoy her. Eventually, one day, she "exploded" and her feelings toward me took a complete 180'. She didn't even have the decency to break up with me in person; she did it _in and e-mail_. She then refused to talk to me for a few days, and any attempt to contact her failed... So I tried going through her friends. How ridiculous! They were my friends too, beforehand, and now they were all violently turned against me! I gave up after a few days, mostly out of anger. The formerly perfect girl had suddenly become the American bitch that I was trying so hard to avoid! Why? I think she was always the American bitch, she just showed her more exotic and fair Asian side. Her American friends (Who are also bitches) turned her this way. I can't say I feel badly for her...
I know not all American women are the horrible, hypocritical, shallow, deceptive whores I want to call them, but it seems like it. I can honestly say I have not met a single American woman who I would date. It's so depressing too. I've met a few who are genuinely nice, but in the end, they're the same deceptive, better-than-men women.
Coincidentally, two days after I broke up with the Americanized Chinese girl, I began talking to someone new. Christina. I met her completely by accident. The first time we talked, it lasted for about six hours and we just couldn't get enough of each other. It remarkably resembled something out of one of those cheesy American chick flicks. After we talked for the first time, what do I find out? She's Korean. For the next... Couple of months, we talked and simply couldn't get enough of each other's words. Despite incredible shyness, on both of our parts, we began to go out a bit and spend more time in public.
Now comes my first kiss rant. I should've kissed Diana numerous times. It's not that I didn't try or wasn't attracted to her. A couple of times, I went to kiss her and she TURNED her head, and then she complained about how we're not physical enough and that we haven't kissed yet. Well, _Christina_ initiated the first kiss, more or less. As a male, this makes me feel as though I'm wanted and I don't have a girl holding little sexual acts over my head just to control me. This made me feel WANTED, ATTRACTIVE, and CONFIDENT.
Four months into the relationship and it feels like a day. We simply cannot get enough of each other. But the beautiful thing is, it's precariously balanced between sexual things and talking. We talk ALL the time and we can tell each other anything. She is my best friend. It's nice to know I have someone as close as her. On top of that, whenever we see each, alone, we're lovers. The best part is that everything isn't one-sided. She actually pointed this out to me. We each enjoy each other and doing things just as much as the other does.
With these new experiences and understandings under my belt, I happened to stumble upon your website once again. This time, I was greeted by a creamy yellow instead of the more depressing greenish-grey. You had been living in Japan for quite a while now and were having a great time. Most recently, you were ranting about Haruna. I must tell you, that sounds fantastic. She sounds truly wonderful and you sound very deserving. You've had to put up with quite a lot of crap, and you changed everything about your life just for a new beginning with women. I must commend you for that. To be honest, I've always wanted to move to Japan. Not just because I believe it would be much more enjoyable than living in the United States, but because of the women too. Asian women, as I see it, are not the pigs American women are. You made a very wise choice...
One complaint about your website though... You make men out to be completely innocent victims. I must say, many men do a lot to women which women could easily write a NiceGirl's Guys Suck Page. I saw your Guys Suck, but it seemed to be contained just to that one rant. Outside of that, men are the absolute fair and just gender and are always being wronged. I know tons of men who are downright despicable and deserve to be slandered ten times more than your site does to women. Other than that, I'd say it gives a relatively accurate representation of American women, except those who are not completely disagreeable harlots.
I congratulate you on weathering the storm of shit from American women, moving to Japan, and finding women worth being with. I wish you the best of luck with Haruna and if all doesn't go well, I'm sure you'll be all right, because the NiceGuy gets the last laugh.
(Tee hee! -- NG)
After thanking him for his letter, I reply.
I have a chance to reply today… I'm glad that you find what I've written to mostly ring true, and your criticism to me is perfectly valid in some ways.
>One complaint about your website though... You make men out to be completely innocent victims. I must say, many men do a lot to women which women could easily write a NiceGirl's Guys Suck Page. I saw your Guys Suck, but it seemed to be contained just to that one rant. Outside of that, men are the absolute fair and just gender and are always being wronged. I know tons of men who are downright despicable and deserve to be slandered ten times more than your site does to women.
Well, you could be correct in your criticism to some extent. There are a LOT of men out there who are totally disagreeable jerk-offs, and no I don't focus on them. With the exception of my cousin, however. I use him as an example in the Guys Suck rant because I consider him to be the archetypal asshole whom women find irresistible. A guy with no education to speak of, no job, a vocabulary lacking anything longer than tri-syllabic words and who almost DARES the police to throw him in jail- yet he has the women fawning all over him. Probably because they think they can 'tame' him or some fanciful Pygmalionesque idiocy like that. So YES he sucks and it IS his fault for sucking… but the women around him only encourage him to do so. They serve to make the problem worse. I guarantee that if being an asshole ever became a turn-off to women, the number of male assholes out there would dive like you wouldn't believe. It's a case of supply following demand IMHO.
But how much guys suck just wouldn't be the point of my site now, would it? Oddly, you throw-in the suggestion that a woman COULD write a NiceGirl's Guys Suck Page, as if it's hypothetical and hasn't happened yet. But the reality is that DOZENS of such pages already DO exist out there! All you need to do is open your eyes for half an instant! Dozens upon dozens upon dozens of the damned things are already out there! There have got to be five dozen 'guys suck' pages for every ONE 'women suck' page. Add that to all the 'guys suck' attitudes embedded within tv shows and movies and magazines and whatnot. Do guys really suck so much, or are women merely much more vocal in hollering the idea at the top of their lungs? Do guys really suck so much, or are women merely much more active in seeking sympathy and commiseration for hurt feelings resulting from dating assholes fifteen times in a row?
No, men are not totally innocent victims in all cases. Certainly not. A lot of men are very dirty and filthy creatures who deserve to get a bullet in the back. (In fact, most men who are assholes seem to have a tendency of reserving their most horrible treatment for other men. Men are more likely to be a danger to other men than they are to women.) Of course not all men are innocent, I never said they always were! And there are already plenty of pages out there devoted to that idea. I don't NEED to write anything on the matter on guys sucking-- there is always some pissed-off Little Patty Neverwrong out there who took Gender-Ed 101 while getting dumped by the captain of the college lacrosse team.
But there are plenty of legitimate areas in which you can fairly call men victims. The thousands of men who die from industrial accidents each year, for instance. Or men who died of prostate cancer because research for that disease has been deprived of funds.
But, you're still young yet, perhaps you will grow-up and see other cases around you where men who have done NOTHING wrong get the shit-end of the stick for no reason other than their gender. For instance, perhaps one day one of your especially decent male friends will divorce his wife because she committed adultery on him MULTIPLE times. Nonetheless, she gets the house and custody of the kids. Your friend will then have to live in a cramped little apartment and have his child visitation allowances repeatedly yanked-away from him simply because his ex-wife enjoys "putting the hurt" on him for divorcing her in the first place. Well, I don't have to imagine this: it happened to a rather close friend of mine. In that kind of situation, the man sure as hell isn't GUILTY.
No, men are NOT the perfectly fair and just gender. But the gender which is most fair must be the gender which is most aware of its OWN UNFAIRNESS! Which gender would that be, friend? -- NG
Bergen, (a guy) writes:
Mr. NiceGuy -
I'm simply astounded at the sheer volume of information on your website. I found your story and your writings quite fascinating. I believe that if it were not such a proscribed subject, you'd have a best seller on your hands. If only we could set up a clinically controlled study to measure the affects of altering situations. It is not enough for me to believe that most women (at least American women) search for inequality between the sexes. It isn't enough to know that they look for the worst examples of men. I want to know why. Why is it that women act in this manner? Why is it men are so willing to surrender? Your writings certainly describe their behavior – but don’t you wonder, “Why?”
The disturbing part is that a great amount of your writings ring oddly familiar. I experienced many of the same things that you did - though admittedly not to the same extreme (I am thankful for that). I could never understand why no matter my attempt at meeting a woman's needs and trying to be "the perfect boyfriend" I was unable to attract the right kind of woman.
Perhaps you remember Jimmy Stewart's 1950 movie, "Harvey"? In it, he plays Elwood P. Dowd, a pleasant individual who is the epitome of "the niceguy". He made a quote (which I'm paraphrasing) that in this world, you can try to be many things: You can try to be oh-so-smart, or oh-so-pleasant. He recommended oh-so-pleasant. I tried to emulate that sentiment. I tried so very hard. It was a failure - but not an utter failure.
I finally met my wife 6 years ago in college after a string of failed relationships (some very painful). My wife agrees with your website. When I first met her, she was upset that our college was offering woman only scholarships to women in her major. While she was happy to have won some of those scholarships, she was bothered by the fact that it seemed a hollow victory. It was her belief that there were men (in her major) that could have potentially beat her out. Because they were male, they could not even enter the contest. She felt that it was sexist and elitist to ignore half of the population just because of their sex. Other women have referred to her as a "traitor" because she will not espouse the dogma of current feminism. Instead, I believe she is a true feminist in that she believes in true equality for the sexes. I'm sure you've heard many people tell you this, but I believe my wife is different. I am lucky that I found someone like her, but I believe it is a rarity.
Like you, before finding someone right, I had my heart destroyed several times. I know the pain and suffering of wondering when the next shoe will drop. I know the absolute misery of not knowing what will happen next. I know the anguish you feel after the breakup (also the relief) and what you have to deal with in the aftermath. It's ugly, and it is painful. I too did my share of counseling women and helping them rebuild their “lives” all while thinking – I’m the guy you’re looking for! It is a fool’s errand because more often than not, you’ll end up watching her from afar again while she makes the same mistakes… over and over. Then, when she has used up the remainder of her looks and charm, she hopes that you’ll be there for her. Not a chance. I’m glad I’m done with that. Never again.
Good luck with your new girlfriend. She sounds great (plus, I absolutely love the Japanese - especially the women!).
Your friend,
Bergen
PS Not to be nitpicky, but you have a quote on one of your pages supposedly from Mariah Carey. (That was a quote in which Mariah supposedly made light of starving children, wishing that she was "thin" like that. -- NG) That quote is actually an urban legend. (Noted, and the change has been made. This is exactly the level of scrutiny I wish to invite from readers. I try to validate the quotes before I post them, and I must've forgotten to check that one. Oopsie. Thanks for the correction and thanks for writing! -- NG)
Forinth (a guy) writes:
I just found your site today, and for about 2 hours, I read through as much of it
as I could. You've put into words everything I've ever really thought, and I would
like to thank you for it. I think I'm gonna follow your example and move to japan
or something. The girls around here are absolutely psycho. They say they care
about nice, sensitive, funny, <insert bull shit about nice guys here>, etc
type of guys, and they always say I fall under those things...but they still go
out with the jerks and shun me. Its the biggest mystery I've ever seen. Your site
is awesome. I kindly, heavily, and sincerely
Thank you.
(Thanks! -- NG)
Masterson (a guy) writes:
Your website is pure gold, I totally agree with you and I see it in my everyday life.
When I was in highschool and the prom was closing in I decided to ask the girl I had been the friend and *free therapist* for a whole year. But before the prom we had a school trip to new-york and I decided to ''show'' her that I wanted to be more than friends... I wont go into much details but basically I tried to be more often with her, try to hold her arm...hell I even got into her chamber with 4 of her friends and they talked for a good 2 hours about the size of their boobies and how much they had jerk boyfriends and stuff (no sex involved mind you). When we got back to our town I hugged her goodbye and got home. What do you know next day she gave me a message on msn and she said she wouldnt be going to the prom with me, that I supposedly made a fool a myself for the 5 days we were gone (nobody else noticed) and that she invited me as a friend and the whole usual garbage. Add some irrationnal thinking, unjustified personal insults and screams... I even tried to apologize to her *ugh* and I went pretty low for that girl.
I was alone and proud at the prom, had more time to drink and chat with my friends and all. And guess what? When we were drinking some beer after the prom she was drunk and she gave me a small tap on the knee as she was passing by before going into the arms of a jerk nobody in our school knew.
The history keeps on repeating, more or less. At college I often help girls out with essays, homework and stuff. I listen to endless streams of *my boyfriend is so stupid, hes a jerk* and *Wow your so nice, thanks a lot, I wish my boyfriend did that more often* But DONT ever ask-out a single girl! Unless you say: Hey bitch, want to have pizza and fuck? Then they will probably fall into your arms because your such an insensitive asshole ;)
Sorry for the bad english, im french Canadian (fucking frog) lol
(Heh, thanks. At least his English is better than my Japanese. -- NG)
Dees, (a guy) writes:
Konichiwa Naisugaisan!
First of all, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for all the work you have done on your website. Mere words cannot accurately convey the appreciation I have for your writing.
A little about me:
I am 26-years-old
and I live in the U.S.A. I am 5'6" tall, fit, a little above average looks-wise,
have perfect hygiene, dress well, good sense of humor, intelligent, extroverted,
easy to talk to, down to earth, honest, friendly, and polite. In addition, if
I come across a woman who I find interesting, I seldom hesitate to go up and talk
to her. So where have all these positive qualities gotten me? Answer: I've never
had a girlfriend, I've only been on three dates, and I've had sex only once in
my life! (And that one sexual experience was over four years ago.) Despite the
HUNDREDS of women I've pursued, I end up in this miserable situation.
I am a decent human being. I've spent a few years of my life involved in anti-war, social justice, human rights, and animal rights activism. I did all of this selflessly, i.e. not for any karma-esque reward (for the record, I absolutely disbelieve in karma). However, I at one point believed that if I live the life of a caring and compassionate human being, some women would notice this and want to be with me because my loving personality is so rare. (BTW, in addition to all the political causes I supported, I used to call myself a "male feminist". While I am no longer involved with activism -- aside from giving money to non-profit organizations which support my views -- I still believe in all the ideals that I held during my activist years....EXCEPT FEMINISM!) So did women notice me because of this? YES! They would tell me what a great person I was, how "cool" I am, etc. However, of the women that noticed these qualities about me, NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM ever had any romantic interest in me. Whenever I would ask them out, they would either give me some bullshit lies, or tell me they just "want to be friends". (Yup, sounds about right. A North American chick is held-afloat by a raft of lies. Which, in turn, is held-afloat by a subset of smaller, more numerous lies. -- NG)
The most touching and disheartening thing I have read on your site was the page about your friend Roger. I see many similarities between him and myself, but I believe he was a far, far better human being than I ever was. He deserved the love of a wonderful woman more than I do. It is a rare occasion, indeed, when I am touched so deeply as I was when I read the page about Roger. I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my stomach when I read that. I cannot help but feel hatred towards American women after what I've been through, but ESPECIALLY after finding out that people like Roger had to deal with this ABSOLUTELY UNJUSTIFIABLE GARBAGE.
I don't want to feel hatred, but I can't help it. I don't understand how anyone with real love in their heart cannot feel hate when predominantly, frequently, and repeatedly treated with injustice at such a base level by American women.
Last week and the week before, I went to see a psychologist about my feelings and dealings with women. He basically said that most women are looking for guys who "appear to have their act together" (Yeah fucking right). (Does this 'psychologist' know, in fact, anything about women at all?? -- NG) I explained to him that anyone who knows me knows how goal-oriented I am, and how I do have my life together. He said that maybe my interactions with women don't convey that. Bullshit.... I almost always consciously present myself as someone in control of his life. The two sessions were nothing more than a waste of money. American women are either whores looking for money, or they want a jerk. Sure, women who do not fit either of those two molds do exist, but then again, so do $20 million winning lottery tickets.
I am a "nice guy", but not a boring loser who happens to be nice. If women ever gave me a chance, I would entertain them and show them a fun time. And make them laugh in the process! But no, they'd rather have an alpha male asshole. Fucking cunts!
My goal in life is to make a career out of being a musician. I work very hard at this everyday. In order to support myself until my dream becomes a reality, I work for a major airline company. I realize the chances of "making it" in music are really small, and luck plays a bigger factor than talent, but to give up on it would be to let a big piece of myself die. However, the airline job is a backup plan. If music hasn't worked out for me in around five years, I can always stick with my airline job (which I kinda enjoy) and I can transfer to an airport in ANOTHER COUNTRY (provided I have good command of the language of the given country). Which means, whether I eventually make a well paying career out of music or call it quits, I *will* be able to leave America and escape the psychotic behavior of American women!
Thanks for taking the time to read this, Dees.
(For the life in me, I can not comprehend how any rational male could ever want to be around a North American chick for any reason. Except, of course, for the reasons that involve putting duct-tape over their mouths...
Oh, stop looking at me like that! -- NG)
Arelen, (a guy from the UK) writes:
Well my friend,
To see a fellow man who has - clearly suffered the same indignity
and cruelty at the hands of our beautiful destructors warms my heart, yet fills
me with yet more woe at the state of the ever decreasing circle that is the western
world.
I wish you well with Haruna (assuming you have been able to get out the the "NiceGuy" Pit of Shit), and applaud you - for you appear to have been able to do what I (thus far) cannot. That is, trust those bitches again. After walking in on one who was fucking another guy (heaven only knows how I managed not to mash that fucker), and (essentially) losing a son to another through (what I must applaud as) masterful deception, I am kind of a little low on trust - due to self preservation brought about by an ulcer, stress-related hypoglycemia and a car crash. (Oh the female hide may be beautiful, but it can serve to disguise a secret engine of wrathful destruction and morbid tyranny. -- NG)
Yes my friend, you offer hope to those of us who are still weighed down heavily by their lies, lies and damned lies. Good luck if you read this,
Arelen.
p.s. - I have recently realised much of the ideas you have described - and over here we (and they suprisingly) call these kinds of women "Bunny Boilers". I assume you've seen Fatal Attraction, right? (Hee! That's not bad! -- NG)
All the best, lets hope none of us feels the need to read - or update sites like this again.
Michelle (an American chick in Japan) squirts from the poison-sac which oozes beneath her tongue:
(This was sent with the self-important title: "Response from a journalist". Is that supposed to impress me? You can tell she's extremely proud of herself. I'll let you read her message uninterrupted. Afterwards, I'll insert my commentary. -- NG)
You're Haruna tirades
are so full of irony, so pathetically cliche and so poorly written that I was
too busy pitying you to feel any tinge of emotional backlash about what you've
-- ad nauseam -- displayed on your site. The Japanese phrase "kuchi ga heranai"
comes to mind...
You tout yourself as an intellect, challenging popular
thought about gender conflicts, when it is obvious that you don't understand the
academic arguments which have been made already, dozens of times, and much more
coherently. Example: under your "Suggested Reading" section, my suggestion
is that you read the books and understand their theses before posting them on
your site. You've given your readers a well-versed, oft-quoted rebuttal to your
arguments... maybe not your best strategy.
It's clear that you have been
rejected (likely numerous times, judging from the way you communicate) by American
women. Now you, like hundreds of your ex-pat compatriots who have spent a year
teaching English or doing some other completely insignificant (in the big scheme
of things) job, think you've found paradise because your Japanese isn't quite
good enough to really understand what's being said to/about you and because you've
not had the time to digest the nuances of Japanese culture. You are blissfully,
ignorantly contented here because half-witted Japanese girls who are looking for
free Eikaiwa (with presents!) are willing to settle for, let's face it... less.
If your feelings about American women were so strong that they committed
you to embarrass yourself in a public forum, maybe it's not the doting arms of
a yukatta-clad Japanese swan you need. Ask around for English-speaking therapists
in your neighborhood. You're a jackass. Maybe you can find someone to help you
with that condition before it gets worse.
(Put-on your goggles. Put-on your boots. Time to wade into the bullshit. And there certainly is quite a pile today... -- NG)
Here we go.
You're Haruna tirades are so full of irony, (She
has made the quality of my writing a bone of contention. On this occasion, I'll
raise myself to her level of purported scholarship to be fair. The "you're"
contraction is a shortening of "you are". Her actual statement here
is: "You are Haruna tirades are so full of irony". Yup, I am
the one who can't write, yet her first sentence starts-off so unimpressively.
-- NG) so pathetically cliche and so poorly written that I was too busy
pitying you to feel any tinge of emotional backlash about what you've -- ad nauseam
-- displayed on your site. (Newsflash, Miss Priss: I'm an
amateur who only writes when he has time to do so! Duh!! I never
pretend to be anything more than that! When Michelle goes to a public tennis
court, does she hiss at the players for not bringing her Wimbledon? She
demands a bit much from the world... -- NG)
The Japanese phrase "kuchi ga heranai" comes to mind... (That
is to say, my 'mouth doesn't decrease'. I scapegoat my failures. But
at this point, the English phrases "stuffed
shirt" and "phony baloney" also come to mind... -- NG)
You tout yourself as an intellect, challenging
popular thought about gender conflicts, when it is obvious that you don't understand
the academic arguments which have been made already, dozens of times, and much
more coherently. (In this 3-sentence paragraph, what is
most notable is what she doesn't say- a distinct lack of supporting statements
to back-up her contention that I know nothing about the things I write. With her
doubtlessly boundless know-how, she could have made this assertion in a much
stronger fashion, but she didn't bother to- I find that to be an odd omission,
don't you? I have written things that she 'knows' to be wrong, but she didn't/won't/can't
mention any illustrative examples! Is it really so "obvious" that I
don't comprehend these things? What
she does here is play a rhetorical ploy: glibly announcing that I pretend to understand
things while I obviously don't and conveniently jumping-over the step of
being specific about how. Ostensibly because it is so self-evident and she doesn't
have to bother following-through. The sole 'example' she provides isn't particularly compelling. -- NG)
Example: under your "Suggested Reading" section, my suggestion is that you read the books and
understand their theses before posting them on your site. You've given your readers a well-versed,
oft-quoted rebuttal to your arguments... maybe not your best strategy. (It
isn't a bad strategy if I encourage criticism from readers:
"Fraud and falsehood only dread examination. Truth invites it."
-- Thomas Cooper, emphasis mine. I would celebrate if I was incorrect about
American chicks sucking! I have read "Who Stole Feminism?" I have read
"The Myth of Male Power". And I've read bits of the other two after
readers suggested I add links to them,
but I haven't had a chance to read them cover-to-cover. So maybe I should take
those two links out- I dunno. Is this all the proof she needs to tell me I don't comprehend
anything at all? She seems to think it is good enough. I am in the process of assembling a more impressive set
of links, however. Stay tuned. -- NG)
It's clear that you have been rejected (Well, I've only been very up-front in openly
admitting my rejections, that's not too hard for anybody to deduce. -- NG)
(likely numerous times, judging from the way
you communicate) by American women. (Michelle, our divine
seer, would claim that American women rejected me because of the way I 'communicate'.
Duhhh me tho dum, aduhhhhh. Yes, we all know that American women just love
men who can 'communicate'. <This is the part where we all roll our eyes.>
-- NG) Now you, like hundreds of your ex-pat compatriots who have
spent a year teaching English or doing some other completely insignificant (in
the big scheme of things) job, think you've found paradise because your Japanese
isn't quite good enough to really understand what's being said to/about you and
because you've not had the time to digest the nuances of Japanese culture. (Wow.
It's like she's given us an open door to her innermost thoughts! She has revealed
many things which do not flatter her. She has revealed contempt for 'hundreds'
of gaijin men who have Japanese girlfriends. She has included a depreciatory-minded
subtext which growls 'you don't know this place as well as I, little man'.
And she even shows a touch of class-based elitism to boot- anybody can
be a teacher, but only Michelle can be hot-shit. She doesn't hold much respect
for those who aren't 'significant' like her. Good God, the people who serve
her in restaurants must be dirt! -- NG) You are blissfully, ignorantly
contented here (A more liberal opinion would say that if
I don't infringe other peoples' rights, I shouldn't have to seek approval from
anybody about my pursuit of happiness. Especially not from any judgmental American
chicks in Japan.* They can't stand to see a dude
enjoy himself. -- NG) because half-witted Japanese girls who are looking
for free Eikaiwa (with presents!) are willing to settle for, let's face it...
less. ('Eikaiwa' = 'English
conversation'. What a mutated way of acknowledging that these girls
can be easily-pleased! Michelle has tried to twist 'low maintenance' into some
form of insult. This snooty remark about settling for 'less' isn't an insult when
you realize that American women refuse to settle for 'less' than fulfillment of
a dozen exploitative double-standards. Heh, or anything 'less' than a total asshole. -- NG)
If your feelings about American women were
so strong that they committed you to embarrass yourself in a public forum, maybe
it's not the doting arms of a yukatta-clad Japanese swan you need. (<This
is the part where we all make wanking motions in the air.> -- NG) Ask
around for English-speaking therapists in your neighborhood. You're a jackass.
(At least she can use the word "You're" correctly,
if only to call people names. Yes,
I'm a jackass. Significantly, I'm a happy jackass who gets oral sex whenever
he asks for it. [Oops, that
was crude of me...] -- NG) Maybe you can find someone to help
you with that condition before it gets worse. (I'm confused. Is she saying
there are therapists out there who actually treat jackass-itis? -- NG)
(*
I love writing about what I see happening around me. As for American chicks in
Japan, there is much to say about them. They sure are real pieces of work. Well--
they sure are real pieces of something, at least.
Blessed with clarity
of vision that makes them uniquely able to see things that the rest of Planet
Japan cannot, these sojourners from the Great Land of Female Infallibility are
a source of never-ending, unswerving, withering dead-on truth. Thank goodness
they have the secret power to determine who is incontrovertibly pathetic and lame
and gutless and butt-ugly. Thank goodness only they can inform us as to how we
should live. If I only had their unfogged eyes, I could turn to self-worshiping
solipsism and make character attacks on everyone else. It is comforting to know
they are always working tirelessly to tell themselves how inferior everybody else
is. Oh yes.
Every now and then, these haggardly creatures can be seen scuttling
around the streets, lolling about the ex-pat bars and clogging-up the subway turnstiles.
Sort of like the human equivalent of cockroaches, except more squishy around the
middle. Their cellulite-riddled hind quarters are reminiscent of dumpy, twice-used
teabags. They can also be identified by their hairy legs, flapping jowls, distended
bellies and shoulder-chips. The wafting scent of their sweat is eerily similar
to the stench of cetacean stomach-contents. Their voices, when not puling, can
be likened to an acoustical whip. But one feature which is especially noticeable:
a lot of them HATE seeing an average-looking foreign guy with a gorgeous
(and thin!) Japanese girlfriend. They HATE it. It BUGS them. It drives them BATTY.
There is something tangibly primeval about it. Their set-piece reaction is: "That
guy is a needle-dicked loser who can't get laid in his home country and that woman
is a subservient airhead with no standards! Why can't they realize how pathetic
I think they are?! Somebody buy me another drink!" This is the creepy sentiment
which Michelle has revealed by bitterly condemning the despised "hundreds
of ex-pat compatriots/half-witted Japanese girls"
combo. Michelle, like many of her overeating ex-pat sorority sisters, can't stand
the thought of a 'loser' foreigner ignoring her in favor of sexy women
who could never, EVER be higher quality than herself. Infallible American Goddesses
don't take kindly to apostates. The men are pathetic geeky losers, the women are
wearing invisible signs: 'Will trade blow-jobs for English'. It is the only palatable
idea which separates chicks like Michelle from painfully confronting their own
ugliness. "Ooh ooh, those pathetic gaijin loser fetishists love having their
fragile male egos catered-to by servile bimbos. Yeah, that's what's going on."
BUT-- when these same gaijin chicks latch their suction-cupped tentacles onto a cool spiky-haired Japanese dude, the rules become quite different overnight. These women suddenly believe that their boyfriends are never merely after free Eikaiwa (with sex!) They believe that their beau never showed interest merely because gaijin-chicks have a notorious reputation of spreading their legs for bus fare- no way! Despite the extra layer of flab, gaijin chicks are more likely to be on the pill you know- but surely that has nothing to do with it either. "Ooh ooh, of course not! Yutaro likes me for me! He sees what an intelligent and high-value woman I am!" Puh-leeze. On top of it, whenever they walk down the street with their boyfriends, many of these chicks eventually become aware that a few passersby will think she is probably a prostitute. American chicks really hate it after that realization starts to sink-in... tee-hee! -- NG)
Grinning at this Display of Pompous Fire-Breathing, I reply:
Hi Michelle, thank you for your hyperventilations. I can see that I have obviously rubbed you the wrong way. Good.
I can also see that you are the type of woman who does not accept criticism with even the slightest glimmer of self-reflection. You are, obviously, an expert on everything and have no need at all for introspection. Indeed, you would prefer to wash-away everything I say with a flood of mouth-foam and fist-slamming. But I DO appreciate you confirming everything I write with your frantic, knee-jerk dash to verbal abuse and display of visceral nastiness. Indeed, you must have had a lot of practice.
Personally, I think its hilarious seeing you send me the email equivalent of spittle-hollering at the top of your lungs. If you cannot tolerate ideas which rub you the wrong way, clearly that questions your ability as a journalist.
Or maybe you just can't stand seeing a male enjoy women whom you consider to be beneath your superior self. Take your pick.
Truly I am a pathetic lame-o for not being attracted to women like you. Of course. That explains everything. How silly of me.
I sincerely hope that a modicum of civility seeps-into your character one day.
Love, -- NG
Less than one hour after I send my response, Michelle fires-back to inform me that she is not at all crazed. She is just misunderstood.
See again, this didn't upset or anger me. Neither did your self-aggrandizing site. You, NG, are mistaking academic criticism for anger, so perhaps it is you and not the so-called "Bitches of America" who caused your distress. I wanted you to know that there is probably a reason you weren't successful in dating American women, and that reason is because of what you must be thinking. Just trying to help you out, big guy.
Another tidbit you might find useful -- if you ever are in Tokyo, be sure to visit Kinokuniya, the gaijin bookstore in Shinjuku. They have a terrific selection of dictionaries and standard English grammar usage books, which apparently you need. Hope you're not one of those English teachers pretending to teach out on the countryside... Poor Haruna-chan, does she sound like you when she talks?
Cheers, Michelle
(She's so cute when she gets mad... I think she occasionally needs to hear things she doesn’t like. -- NG)
Further analysis would indicate that Michelle, our sage, is a disdain-filled individual who detests the happiness of others...
See again, this didn't upset or anger me. (The forced-calmness of her reply would suggest a panting desperation to prove she is neither panting nor desperate. The best thing about pride: its injury can be so easily-denied via e-mail. -- NG) Neither did your self-aggrandizing site. (Calling my site "self-aggrandizing" is to drain that term of meaning. If I was truly self-aggrandizing, I probably would've established my own domain name and started selling t-shirts. -- NG) You, NG, are mistaking academic (What?? -- NG) criticism for anger, so perhaps it is you and not the so-called "Bitches of America" who caused your distress. (I don't know who she is quoting. Based on context, it would have to be me- but it can't be me. Surprisingly, I have never actually used that phrase in any of my past writings. Sure, I've used "bitches", I've used "of" and I've used "America" but never have I combined the three in the way she just did. She isn't putting words in my mouth, she is just being sloppy. But just so she can be correct, I will oblige her: bitches of America such as Michelle fake their intelligence, are incomprehensibly full of themselves, and are nuttier than squirrel-turds. -- NG) I wanted you to know that there is probably a reason you weren't successful in dating American women, and that reason is because of what you must be thinking. (She means I wasn't successful with them back when I used to think they aren't wacko. She is right on the money. -- NG) Just trying to help you out, big guy. (Gosh, she sure is supportive... -- NG)
Another tidbit you might find useful -- if you ever are in Tokyo, be sure to visit Kinokuniya, the gaijin bookstore in Shinjuku. They have a terrific selection of dictionaries and standard English grammar usage books, which apparently you need. (As she was writing this, if a person had tapped her on the shoulder and quietly said: "Hey Michelle, I think his spelling and diction really isn't all that horrible." She would snarl back: "Silence! I can see it, even if you can't- he uses too many commas! And see here? A dangling participle! The fool!" -- NG) Hope you're not one of those English teachers pretending to teach out on the countryside... Poor Haruna-chan, does she sound like you when she talks? (No, Haruna-chan has a sexier accent than I. -- NG)
Cheers, Michelle
(Now dear reader, I ask you honestly: is my grasp of English really anywhere as atrocious as she makes it out to be? Or is Her Highness Grammar Queen just inventing things to spout-off about? Am I truly in need of reeducation, or is it just a bluff? Methinks she doth protest too much and is flapping her supercilious gums over precious little. Is she niggling about my over-reliance on the passive voice and use of the folksy colloquial "ain't"? Hell, sometimes I even use sentence fragments. But if I were to get the ghost of James Joyce to write for me, she would suddenly have no complaints? Unlikely. She can't offer much of a specific attack against my core statements. Instead, she infers that I express myself so poorly that I am in need of a grammar textbook. I had always thought my occasional use of goofy vernacular and clumsy, amateurish prose might just be one of my idiosyncrasies. Perhaps it might humanize me. But no it just 'proves' that I am but an imbecile, she smirks with an air of detached self-satisfaction. Being a journalist is really no guarantee of producing good writing-- just pick-up a copy of Newsweek if you want proof. The editors of that stink-rag must be clutching bottles of gin beneath their desks... but I digress.
She doesn't care for my writing style, fair enough. But part of me would have to suspect that the real issue at work in Michelle's mind is NOT my poor writing, but she feels compelled to attack me on every possible front. Like firing into an alien blob-monster with buckshot to increase the chances of hitting something vital; trying to hurt me in retaliation for angering Her Highness. It is quite a wide-ranging collection of buckshot: my limited Japanese, my bad writing, my inability to grasp basic aspects of gender issues, my half-wit of a girlfriend, my past romantic failures which stem from the fact I can't 'communicate', I don't understand the books I reference, I don't understand the culture around me, I probably have an insignificant job, I need some form of therapy... and why can't I accept her purely 'academic' criticism? Yeah, whatever. Just keep firing-away at the blob and maybe you'll hit something. Insults mean very little to me when they have been conceived in a head so clearly swollen with hot-air. Her fustian outbursts have so far betrayed a number of attitudes which clearly transgress reasonableness, to say the least. -- NG)
I reply- but it's probably useless to point-out that an insult-filled cesspool normally shouldn't be considered very 'academic'...
It's funny- for purely academic criticism, you threw-in an awful lot of personal remarks, mock deference and pretended concern for the coherence of my statements. All topped-off with the capstone of EVERY (livid) female message to me- the suggestion that I need plenty of mental help and quick quick QUICK.
>It's clear that you
have been rejected (likely numerous times, judging from the way you communicate)
by American women. Now you, like hundreds of your ex-pat compatriots who have
spent a year teaching English or doing some other completely insignificant (in
the big scheme of things) job, think you've found paradise because your Japanese
isn't quite good enough to really understand what's being said to/about you and
because you've not had the time to digest the nuances of Japanese culture. You
are blissfully, ignorantly contented here because half-witted Japanese girls who
are looking for free Eikaiwa (with presents!) are willing to settle for, let's
face it... less.
I would not call that paragraph too academic.
In fact, most people would consider it a VERY cheap-shot with a few academic-seeming
overgeneralizations before and after it. I would say it's more likely you were
especially stung by something I wrote, and now you feel the need to put-up a macho
act of pretending that you were not hurt by someone as lowly as me. All while
beating your chest about how superior you are, of course.
Oh, but what am I saying? I am a pathetic human being. I need help on my spelling and grammar. Only half-witted women find me attractive because they will settle for much MUCH less. I am pretending to be an English teacher in the countryside because I cannot find a job wrapping tacos back in Topeka. And, if it suits you, I am a warty, filthy hunchback with bad breath and three teeth in my head. Whatever satisfies your ego and the sneering elitism that accompanies it.
Or maybe sneering elitism is just your style of academic criticism.
If you plan to build a career on harassing me, I can tell you straight away- there isn't much money in
it. But it sure soothes your precious little feelings, doesn't it?
-- NG
(I think Michelle might feel better if she yelled into a vacuum cleaner nozzle for
a little while. Now, I will give this chick some credit- she has hit-upon what
are some of my greatest weaknesses. One weakness is the fact that I am not a professional
writer, which I have never claimed to be. I do call them Awful Truth stories,
don't I? You certainly can't accuse me of false advertising. She is shocked
she got what she paid for!
Another weakness is that my Japanese isn't that
great and I don't understand all the cultural nuances around me. That is all quite
true. In fact, I think I have freely admitted all of those things in the past.
Michelle, however uses this as an excuse to purge her colon over the hundreds
of Commie mutant traitor gaijin geeks out there who have the galling audacity
to bring their girlfriends within Her visual range! How dare they not beg
Her all-important approval beforehand! Such effrontery by the entire community
of male gaijin workers! Heh.
Yes, I will concede this much: Michelle has proudly
made the original 'discovery' of various shortcomings which I have acknowledged
long ago. Well done! Excellent achievement! What a trained eye! Clap.
Clap. Clap. I hope she doesn't break her arm while
patting herself on the back too hard... -- NG)
Enough of that. Now Femicide (a guy) writes:
I must say you are a very good writer. I thoroughly enjoyed your site and it's bang-on contents. Unlike you, I have lumped all women everywhere into one group. I like to refer to women , everywhere as cruel, soulless, untrustworthy black holes of endless "needs." Basically, I have simply come to loathe them all. Mind you, I don't loathe their bodies. Therein lies the quandary. However, I have found, just as one can separate love from sex, so too can one separate hate from sex. Sex is just sex; it's nothing personal. Women are just objects, nothing more. They are just "there" like the furniture is just "there." Mind you, I fully realize they are human beings and would not deliberately hurt one physically any more than I would hurt any living creature. My one consolation is the bitches do many of the same things to each other as they do to men.
Fortunately, I have found a variety of women who feel much the same way, so I get what I need. They are all lunatics, just some more so than others. Being an artist gives me a lot of leeway too. They expect me to be strange and I don't disappoint them. Many of them essentially just say "there there, it'll be alright." <patting me on the head>. They don't care how I feel about women.
One of the things I enjoy doing is bursting their bubbles. As I cannot speak, this is problematic. Thus, I spend time on-line chatting with groups of them waiting for one to start spouting about how bad men are and how wonderful things would be if women were in charge. I then run through a litany of the vile misdeeds done by women over the ages, including stats which show, in some crimes, like child abuse, they actually outstrip men. They say things like women can't rape, then I show them where women have, indeed, been convicted of rape, especially with children. That sort of thing. It's a great way to release pent up rage. The times I treasure the most are the ones in which some idiot woman I had sex with tries to accuse me of getting her pregnant. I proceed to inform her I was snipped some time ago. The look on her face is priceless.
Sincerely, Femicide.
(Thanks much! -- NG)
Karen (a woman) writes:
I love the site! The way you tell it like it is regarding woman's inhumanity to man in western society is a much-needed breath of fresh air.
(Thanks! -- NG)
Swift (a guy) writes:
Nice Guy,
I totally know where you're coming from. I'm 24 and I'd swear that I made that webpage (apart
from the American part an the moving to Japan) I go through the same stuff and
I finally decided I'm SICK of it. I don't understand why every woman I've known
always tell me how wonderful I am and how more guys should treat women the way
I do and on and on (you know the lines) but hen it comes to dating . . ."umm
no sorry." I've come to the conclusion that all women must be partly masochistic
and WANT and asshole who treats them like garbage. And the thing is I'm not just
nice to women cause I think it WILL get me something, I'm nice to everyone cause
that's they way I think people should be. I do give women more respect then men
because I feel they deserve it. Actually most of that should probably be in the
PAST tense. I'm really starting to shift because even in areas outside of relationships,
nice guys seem to get screwed every time. You know you always fill in for that
person at work who seems to need shifts off at the last minute almost every week,
but if you needed them to do the same it would never happen. The last time someone
tried that I charged them $50 cash (plus then I got paid for the shift from the
company) Basically I've learned that being nice gets you nowhere. I have three
main rules for life now, the lesson was costly, it hurt like hell, but I am ever
so glad for it, for things seem to be getting better. 1. I am the single most
important person I will ever know. 2. I will never count on anyone but myself.
3. Just because you CAN help someone, doesn't mean you should. (especially if
there's nothing in it for you.)
It's nice to see there's other guys out there
who have gone through the same things I have. So many guys out there seem to be
the not-so-nice guys who GET the girls and don't understand any of this. Or even
understand me. In fact because I actually respect women and all and expect they
should too I am often suspected of being gay by other guys.
Keep spreading the word!!!!!
(Hee, if I can! -- NG)
Archangel (a guy) writes:
I enjoyed your website. You have alot of material and I haven't read it all yet.
I remember going through the stage where my working hypothesis was that there was something wrong with me and I spent several thousand dollars and several years on Speed Seduction which didn't help me one bit.
However, I am still better off then the thousands of nice guys who spent tens of thousands of dollars on blood sucker therapists only too be told by these bureaucratic goons of the system that they are the problem. Or worse yet, they have their nice guy biology permanently screwed up with drugs.
I finally came to the realization that there is nothing wrong with me accept that I was misinformed by the powers that be and spending my time pursuing garbage.
In a few weeks I will be going down to Colombia to be spoiled by my novia. Foreign women are the ticket.
(Cool... I'd like to elaborate yet more
on the 'garbage' aspect of North American chicks, but I feel like I'm just repeating
myself. As the boyfriend/husband of a North American chick, you are expected to
respect her, refrain from making statements which denigrate females, listen to
her concerns, think of her rights and consider her equal to yourself. However
as a girlfriend/wife, she will not feel obligated to be sensitive toward you,
nor will she object to male-bashing, listen to your concerns, think of your rights,
or consider you equal to HERself.
Indeed, she will expect male service and
sacrifice as her birthright. That's why you should avoid relationships with Miss
Demandy at all costs. -- NG)
Murphy (a guy) writes:
Hello,
I came across your website and I thought that I would do a little sounding off
of my own.
I agree with just about everything you've wrote on your website.
I was always told that women wanted a 'nice' man. (Why do women insist on telling
this lie to their children?) It was far too late in life that I discovered that
treating women like 'crap', or, as I like to call it 'doing unto others as they
do unto you' is a much more successful policy.
Some stories/personal experiences you may be interested in-
A former boss of mine, who is now
a good friend has been married for about five years. He isin't making a fortune,
but he is pulling in some serious coin. Enough at least, that he is supporting
the homestead without the assisstance of his wife, they have the house, two new
cars, a boat, and he still saves for retirement. (Well, that is close enough to
a fortune for me, but what do I know?) Anyway, all he gets from his wife are accusations
of infidelity, grief over the amount of house work he does, and general torture.
Once I said to him... "you know... you'd think that since she stays home
all the time, has a sitter for her two days a week so she isin't trapped at home
all the time with the kids... she wouldn't expect you to do half of the household
chores.." He replied sadly "You know, you'd think that... it just doesn't
work out that way."
On a date, right after I had just picked up
my date, she informs me that she only eats in restaurants. Being a poor college
student, lacking financial aid of any kind, I informed her with a smile as I stopped
the car "If you don't eat cheap, you don't eat with me."
At one of the jobs I worked at while putting myself through college, a female employee
became infatuated with me. I was entirely unaware of this for some time. Apparently
she wrote, for some time, series of notes that she asked people to give to me.
She even began to write notes and hide them where she thought I would find them.
Though I was unaware of this for some time. She also obtained my phone number,
and began calling my house regularly and then hanging up. She even found out where
I lived and drove by to see where I lived. It later turns out that she would talk
about me with ANYONE who would listen. Besides being entirely too young young
for me, she was also entirely unattractive. I assume that because of this, my
co-workers decided to insulate us from eachother to spare her feelings. (I have
a reputation for being blunt....or rude, depending on who you ask) Left to her
own devices, her fantasy spun out of control, and she became convinced that we
were 'together' even though I had said no more then twenty words to her combined.
When I started to find out what was going on (but not the full extent of it) I
told her I had no interest in her. Soon afterwords she began threatening to burn
my "****ing house down"
To make an already long and boring story
shorter, it took forever to get management involved, I was nearly held responsible
for it, and it was not until ten employees backed up my side of the story that
I was believed. Outside of work, the threats did not stop until I let it be known
that I am a good shot (not great, but I can knock plates down at 25 yards) , I
keep a .357 magnum and I would not hesitate to use it if I thought that I was
in danger.
Thanks, Murph
(Yikes, thanks for that... -- NG)
Maria (a gal) writes:
I love the site! The way you tell it like it is regarding woman's inhumanity to man in western society is a much-needed breath of fresh air.
Thank you,
(Kewl! -- NG)
Tisdall, (a guy) writes:
Dear NiceGuy,
I realize you’re in Japan and have little time to update, but
I’m hoping you’ll post my experiences as further proof that NiceGuys
finish last with American women. Your site was referenced to me via a multi-university
online forum on relationships. Incidentally, it was posted by an uninformed schmuck
of a girl who undoubtedly scanned what you said and deemed it unintelligent. Summarily,
it was dismissed by a few others on the forum. Well, they be wrong. Real wrong.
And hopefully frightened. Everything you’ve written about hits home. Hard.
An odd coincidence, but I will be studying in Japan either this summer and/or
fall. I’m looking to learn more taiko, try some kendo, maybe butoh (hell,
anything ending in an ‘oh', some dance-theater. And yes, yes, yes, maybe
find a girl.
Me: I am a nice guy. And I’m
not a boring dolt. I’m a half-Chinese Jewish nineteen-year-old college sophomore
with an intended double major of dance and theater, a passion for drawing, pop
culture, 80s metal, skiing, humor, and modern warfare. As you can see, my interests
vary widely in terms of taste...makes for great conversation.
I’ve been told by unrelated people of varying ages, cultures, and both genders that I am
indeed "a nice person" and bears a resemblance to Keanu Reeves. Friends
of both sexes have told me I am attractive and an extremely interesting and have
a crazy sense of humor. I am non-aggressive (and no, not even passive aggressive),
I don’t use people. I am sensitive to other’s feelings and my own. And
I do not seek to make myself depressed or self-destructive. I don’t drink,
smoke, or take drugs, and never will. I’d say it’s a good indication
that I’m neither a bawling puddle, nor a big dumb male asshole. So, I’m
a heterosexual with the sensitivity of a (granted, stereotypical, but without
the lisp and wrists) gay male. You’d think with the ballet and modern and
taiko I’d be considered sexy or attractive or interesting? WELL, NO!
You’d think I’d be able to find a wonderful, well-adjusted girl.
Total number of girls I’ve met who could have been a girlfriend since high school:
5.
Only relationship I’ve had: 1
Duration: Less than three weeks.
Sexual experience, encounters: None.
Times kissed: Oh, three?
You ever wish you had Marty McFly’s DeLorean? You know,
so you could just accelerate to 88mph, and go back to any of these moments when you first met
them? And then in slow motion, scream, "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" and tackle yourself
(or bodycheck the psycho away)?
Chronicles
Neurotica-
Following a ridiculous crush where I sat transfixed and too dumbfounded to say
anything, I decided in 9th grade to actually talk and meet a girl. Boy, did I
pick the wrong one. She was pretty, though. Tall, blonde, shy, extremely intelligent.
I was the only one to whom she talked, really. I made her laugh and enjoy herself.
We didn’t try to jump each other’s bones, but just enjoy each other’s
company. She eventually developed an enormous crush on me, and I on her. Nothing
materialized out of it that year. Come 10th grade, she turned evil. Her family
was extremely neurotic and dysfunctional. She claimed guys were always hooting
at her, that teachers had something against her, that she was far too smart for
anyone, that I was getting immature (huh?). She shied away from physical contact,
which made me uneasy and hesitant to even give the girl who had a crush on me
a hug. I certainly didn’t want to pressure her into anything at all. Not
even the slight brushing of hands. She looked scared as hell of any physical contact.
So, she called me immature. Because I made her enjoy being with me. Because I
made her laugh. Because I was the only one who sat and talked to her (in retrospect,
this should have clued me in. But how was I to know, being in 9th -11th grade?)
To have a sense of humor, to have wit, be it ironic or low brow, to be able to
gauge people’s moods and make according jokes that cause them to laugh and
feel better.
Neurotica abruptly came up with the claim that my crush developed
because I was stalking her (she has since denied it). A sidenote -- there’s
the way the women use the word "stalking." Stalking, huh. Holy shit.
Are you nuts!? Stalking is bad, wrong. Why would I stalk somebody?
Neurotica then became much more hostile. I was called unpleasant things while she went on
about how she had met this great guy online. Holy crap. She then developed an
eating disorder and a stressed out complex that made her menstrual cycle go insane.
She went to the hospital for some time. I was confused. I cried, I was depressed,
I called her and told her I was worried about her and she was important to me.
And then she finally got better physically, then came back and was even nastier
than ever. Wouldn't talk to me except to belittle me. I finally stopped talking
to her I avoided her junior year. During the summer between junior and senior
year, I received a lengthy letter about how sorry and wrong she was and that she
had been so horrible. I forgave her, started talking to her, only to watch her
go nuts again. She still talks to me occasionally, and I make sure to keep my
distance. She’s poison, pure and simple.
She-Shit
I met this artistic, poetry-inclined girl my senior year of high school at a Prospective
Student Weekend at Small Elite Liberal Arts College X back in March or April.
She started talking to me first and she seemed like a really nice girl. From Hong
Kong, but moved when she was a small child. We watched a movie together, hung
out on the lawn, went to various activities, walked around. I was definitely pleased
and surprised after all the crap in high school. When I got home, she e-mailed
me promptly, and we started a long e-mail dialogue. It seemed like she was very
interested in me, the way she flirted in her letters and said how great I was
and things like, "We definitely have to just lie on Parrish Beach and look
at the sky." She seemed quite dreamy, very different from Neurotica (how
wrong I was) and all the other girls in high school. So, I reciprocated similar
comments and compliments. I wasn't trying to get in her pants or anything. I felt
I should take my time, and I think I did. And we occasionally talked on the phone,
and I told her about my aspirations and annoyances and faults of my life, and
she did the same for hers. I told her I'd like to be a more understanding, affectionate
kind of friend. I told her about my past experiences with failed attempted relationships.
And she agreed (perhaps not, in retrospect) and sympathized. Sometimes she would
criticize herself for being a lousy friend to people, always brushing them away
and expecting them to be waiting for her when she returned. I, in my stupidity,
told her she was wrong -- she was a good person. And, well, things felt good --
I felt that she was definitely a potential girl with whom to have a relationship.
Remember this -- I wasn’t going to force it, but rather let things take their
course. If nothing ever blossomed, fine, that’s okay. I’d have a friend.
If a romantic relationship did blossom, that too would be fine and wonderful and
delightful and flowers and cakes for all.
We had discussed getting together over the summer, and eventually it was decided I'd fly out for the weekend for her birthday in July (not a bad ticket price). But, two days before I flew out, she called me up (we talked on the phone sometimes, with great chemistry) and exclaimed in a worried voice, "W-What are your feelings on me!?"
"Pardon?"
"What are your feelings on me? On us?"
I caught on. I said that she was the nicest girl I've ever met (Christ, how many had I met at that point?), and that while we were friends, I could easily be romantically inclined towards her.
Her reaction was, "Oh. Oh, no. That's not what I wanted. You're nice, but I'm not looking for a boyfriend or anything. I don't want that! I still want you to come out, though."
So, I was confused. I wasn’t trying to get her to be my girlfriend at all. I said, "Of course I’m still coming to visit." Meanwhile, I thought -- gee, well, why did you lead me on like you were interested in all of our discussions and e-mails? That, and why did she just shut it off any sort of relationship.
So, I flew out on the weekend, and she didn't even recognize me in the airport (granted, I had a haircut). I recognized her instantly (and she had a haircut). Kind of sad. And she just said, "Hi." And I felt like crap. Totally awkward. What the hell was doing out here? I didn't even feel like myself.
She had to prepare for her party -- cooking, cleaning, etc. I tried to help out a
little bit, but she was totally ignoring me. Plus, out of nowhere, she seemed
to get this idea that I was ignorant of her Chinese identity or something.
"This is my grandmother. She’s making egg and scallion pancakes,have you ever had
them? (Yes) Here, eat."
"Okay." I’m actually full, so I
eat one and thank her grandmother for it, whereupon She-shit looks at me and asks,
"Why aren’t you eating? There’s still plenty."
Time passes while She-shit scoops melon balls for her party.
"Are
you sure you don’t want me to help?"
"No, no. You just sit on the couch."
I guess she had other things on her mind, so I just sort of
stayed quiet and watched. She took the time to walk around the neighborhood with
me for five minutes, and I we sit for a moment and suddenly her head finds my
shoulder. While she’s doing this, she reiterates her "I’m not looking
for a romantic relationship. Not only that, I don’t believe in marriage."
I ask her if she’s ever been romantically interested in me at all.
"No. Never."
And that was the last time I felt all right with her.
So, she had her party, and her friends came over. And I was getting the feeling her two closest friends (the cynical, highly opinionated, arrogant fast-talker type who are out to show everyone how much they know) hated my guts. Any attempt to talk was basically met with a derisive sneer. Ouch. What did I do?
And the girl, being a poet of sorts, had a poetry reading. And it’s pure, unfiltered masturbatory teen angst bullshit poetry. (Lemme guess as to these poems: in half of the endings, the main character wakes-up to discover everything had just been a dream? -- NG) So try to lighten things up, I try reading a bawdy anonymous English limerick, and get smirked silence and a sneer or two from her best friends-4-life, dammit.
And here's where the controversy really begins. She breaks out her journal, and a lot of people start looking at it while she’s in the room. And she has no problem with them looking at it. Keep in mind these aren’t her ultra-close friends. So, I wonder what the people are reading, and I walk over and look at it for a moment, and then she says to me, "No, don't look at that."
"Okay." And I walk away and don’t bother to press the issue.
So, we do some stereotypically angsty shit. Everyone has to watch "The Joy Luck Club" (UGH! Ever notice that most of Amy Tan's Chinese male characters tend to be despicable? -- NG) …and then listen to "Dreams" by the Cranberries ad nauseam. Holy shit, no wonder her mood isn’t cheerful.
Later, she says to me that she has to drive a friend home, on account of it being so late. I ask if I can tag along, and she says, "No, just stay here -- it won't be that long."
Uh, what the hell?
So, I'm sitting on the couch,
alone, and see her poetry journal sitting on the coffee table. I wonder if I should
look at it -- I remember other people looking at it, with her approval, so I open
it up. Realize that I’m sitting on this couch, confused, worried, and damn
near close to tears. I'm not trying to be a malicious male asshole. I just want
to know why she’s acting like this.
So, I open the book up.
And I see her sketches of her pet chinchilla (very cute), some travel writings, and
some rough drafts of poems, as well as some of her own thoughts. One of the entries
is dated right after she called me, two days before I flew out to her house. She
described herself as a jerk for doing that to him, and how guilty she felt. And
it was an emotional outpour of criticism of her actions. Sadness, compassion welled
up in me. I started crying and I just wanted to hug her and tell her she was still
a good person. (STUPID! STUPID!)
So, she got back a few minutes later, and I told her immediately I had looked in her journal, and I explained why. She took it very well -- she nodded and said she understood, so I felt that I had gotten through that I wasn't trying to be a jerk. I was just worried over what was bugging her.
So, the next morning, I thought we were going to just hang out, the two of us. She was going to show me around her stomping grounds. Instead, her bitch-friends came and did the sneer routine while I sat in the car. We went to a used bookstore, some oils and scents and soaps place, and then a Chinese restaurant.
"This
is tofu. Have you had it/do you know what it is?"
What. The. Fuck.
"Yup."
"Why
aren’t you having any?"
(Because your behavior makes me nauseated?
Because there’s not much and I’m willing to let others eat it? Maybe
because I don’t fucking like tofu?)
They proceeded to take up all of her time while I sat there with a blank look on my face, mentally slamming myself in the forehead.
I flew back home. I e-mailed her promptly, thanking her for the party and how it was good to see her and what fun we would have at college. I didn't hear from her for a week, at the end of which I received the e-mail -- "I haven't written to you for two reasons. 1. I've been exhausted from my summer job. 2. Every time I think of you, I think about what you did at my house -- you read my journal, and that fills me with distrust, disbelief and hatred. And then I just can’t sit down and write to you."
Okay. I was totally honest with her. I read it for the aforementioned, justifiable reasons. Other people were reading the journal. It was in plain sight. I already told her I read it. Why does she suddenly hate my guts? I thought of defending myself, but I took the spineless route and called her back and simply said, "You're right. Those were your private thoughts and they should have stayed private. I had no right to go ahead and read them." And suddenly her tone of voice was understanding and mellow. She had a totally different persona in real-time than in e-mail.
And she wrote me back and told me that it seemed she had been romantically interested in me because oh, she swore I had told her the first time we had met that I was gay.
WHAT!? Somehow I think that was an excuse for any feelings she had before (that is, if she did). And if I was such the homosexual, how come she knew my sob story about Neurotica, which would indicate that I am a heterosexual? And why the hell would she call me up and worriedly ask about, "us if I was gay? LIAR!
So, we still e-mailed each other, although she e-mailed me less. And the times she did e-mail me, she often talked how she didn't want a relationship, how she we was tired of expecting things from people, how she would get so bored of people, how she didn't want to expect anything from anyone...and she acknowledged that she could be brusque, selfish, and that the world had to revolve around her, indeed. She justified it by saying oh, well, that's the way she was and "knowing all this, do you still want to be friends with me?" On occasion, she brought up the fact that she still couldn’t trust me because of the journal.
In my stupidity and good-nature, I insisted that she was a good person (I think she interpreted that as me simply not listening to what she was saying), and that I did indeed, still want to be friends with her. I arrived at the college a couple of weeks before her -- I was a student invited to a fabulously wonderful and enlightening week-long multicultural incoming student seminar, and I described what sort of discussions and things happened. She replied that issues such as Asian identity and race and such were not important to her, as she was secure in her own identity (Bullshit. She-shit had gone on about how she disliked America and missed being in Hong Kong. She also had gone on about how in freshman year of high school, she had dressed in the ghetto-style and tried to associate with the lifestyle. Huh? Sounds confused to me). I still was willing to talk and make conversation, to make the effort to know her. But her e-mails lessened and became briefer. She said, "Well, who wants to hear about what’s going on in my life? It's just routine, and there's nothing to talk about." Wow, what happened to the poems, advice, humor, musings, etc.?
I e-mailed her, asking if she was okay, if she was worried about coming to college for the first time or leaving home for the first time, because she sounded kind of curt. I told her that the experience had so far been a good one and that she deserved a nice welcome on arriving, and we would finally get to hang out, etc. In retrospect, I was putting my penis into a blender.
Her reaction was to write me back an e-mail with the header "Don't Waste Four Miserable Years on Me." The message contained such statements as, "I'm anti-talk now" and how I was wrong about her, that I never listened to what she was saying. How she didn't want affection. Or rather, she did, but not from someone she just couldn't trust (although she said she was over the whole journal incident).
The most shocking thing was what she then said at the end of the message (and this is absolutely verbatim, as it will forever be seared into my brain) -- "I am a strong, loved, beautiful, yellow woman. And if you ever try to put your hands on me again, I will fucking mess you up."
So, needless to say, I was shocked. What the hell? What the hell did I do? Touch her? What? Huh? I think the only time I put my hands on her was a half-assed hug she started when I left. And the very fact I remember who started the hug is pathetic.
And the whole "yellow" thing, implying that I just couldn’t understand what it’s like to be Chinese. Hell, shit. Maybe I should have just replied that I was an empowered chink-kike?
So, she came to college, and I made the mistake of trying to talk to her. I, still reeling, nervously approached the door. I was ready for her to do anything violent to me, including shooting me or screaming "rape"… I knocked and she opened it and left me standing in the hallway while she went, "If you want to talk, talk. Can I get you anything?" And I’m standing there thinking of something to say, "Well, why don’t I come back later, when you’re not unpacking ("Can I get you anything?" You’re gonna offer me a fucking Snapple after you threatened me). "Sure." And as I leave, I turn and shut the door, which happens to shut loudly due to loose hinges, heavy weight, and a draft.
Later that night, when I came back, She-shit was nice enough to give me two minutes of her time, saying, "I'm kind of busy [during orientation!?] and I have to go shower." I asked her why she hated my guts. The reply was essentially, "Well, you’re the one who’s being violent about it. You slammed my door! Regarding the whole 'hate your guts thing' oh, I don't hate your guts. You just don't understand me whenever I'm trying to say something. You don't listen and you were never listening to me. So, are we okay, then?" Then she left, leaving me on the bench. One of her friends later told me that she thinks I'm creepy and hard to get along with.
Okay. Creepy? I'm creepy? I’m sorry, that’s just fucking wrong. What the hell. I've tried to be nice. No, fuck that. I was nice. I have never lashed out at her, never even attempted to touch her in an appropriate manner. I have never followed her around. I have always been honest with her. And every time I saw her, it just feel like somebody's stabbed me in the chest. It really does hurt, to see her walking around campus. And I think of what could have been, and why the hell she really does hate my guts.
November, a conversation
on AIM:
I leave her alone for several months, and realize I genuinely miss
the conversations we have. I wonder what she’s up to, so I nervously IM her
out of the blue. She seems normal! Success? We talk about school, intended majors,
extracurriculars, plans for break. I ask if we could possibly talk in person,
maybe take a walk or just sit down without all the (her) grudges and misconceptions.
And lo, she says, "Sure, that’d be fine."
And we talk for another
half an hour or so, and things seem good. And suddenly she goes (verbatim), "You
should know, I’m just not feeling it." Feeling what?
"The whole walk-and-talk thing. Sitting down. I don’t think so. Bye." And she signs off.
What the hell? 'I’m not feeling it?' Is she implying I’m trying to hit on her or something? What the hell!?
That was the last I’ve spoken to her.
My confusion and pity has since turned
to a desire for vengeance. People simply should not jerk people around like this.
It’s hard to drop the whole thing and move on when you’re living on
a small campus, passing by her at least three times a week, and she happens to
work in the library where all the books I read happen to be on reserve. Hard to
study when there’s fury and rage in your body. What’s more irritating
is that she stole friends I had made from the multicultural seminar at the beginning
of freshmen year. A couple of understanding girls, my friends during this pre-orientation
week, had told me they didn’t like what she had written to me, and they would
make sure to give her a piece of their minds if they ever met her. Well, they
did. And guess what? Now they’re all best friends and rooming together. She-shit
still writes incredibly contrived stereotypical Asian-American college student
poetry (even though she has no issues with Asian American identity). Things about
"grandmother’s worn and wrinkled hands"…"sweet-talkin'
playas" trying to get with her." "Rejection by others." Absolute
trash. And apparently her angst-ridden letters she writes to her snotty bitch-friend
back home also constitute readable literature at least according to the school
publication.
With the phone call the night before the fateful party, I think
she had already made up her mind to not even have me as a friend. Reading the
journal, a dumb move on my part, merely provided a catalyst. Was she looking for
a jerk, willing to view me as one despite all evidence pointing to the contrary?
I’m not sure I ever had a chance. While I would never do any physical violence,
I am now willing to ahead and yell and scream and be as frightening as possible.
I’d like to see She-shit terrified and suddenly aware at what the hell she
does is just morally vacant. I want her to realize she is not a decent human being.
What the hell do girls want me to be? A goddamn jerk!? (On some subconscious level, YES. -- NG)
Finding a well-adjusted, pleasant girl should not be an exercise in excruciating emotional pain.
SomeGirl
I met a girl at college, very cute. Little in common. Talked to her, conversed with her over e-mail.
Happened to reply to an e-mail at 1am and sent it to her timestamped at approximately
1:38am. The following e-mail from her asked, "Hi, are you trying to scare
me? Did you really write that at 1:38 am in the morning?"
Holy fuck. People can be up at 1:38am. How can she not realize this?
So, I withdrew from that really quickly.
AlohaPunk
A Hawaiian punk-girl, just so cute, I met from a neighboring all-girl’s college,
went to the same multicultural seminar. Later told me she had an enormous crush
on me during the weeklong event. I was very flattered. We spent all night talking.
We have many of the same interests, and I gave her a massage (woop.) Things seemed
grand. It looked like we would hang out lots together. I heard through the grapevine
from a friend at the college that word spread about through some of the girls
that I apparently stalk or stalked her. Holy shit. Stalking? This stupid claim
comes up again? What the fuck!? Why do girls throw this word around? Do you have
any idea how serious that sort of thing is? How in the fuck do you get off, accusing
someone of stalking a girl. "A girl they never see and to whom they rarely
talk!? I rarely get off my own campus, much less to hers! Better yet, yeah, that’s
me you’re accusing of stalking a girl. Twice. Two different girls. And yeah,
it’s a coincidence, you jerks. Yeah. Me. Gee, that wasn’t very nice.
See, stalking is immoral. It’s bad. You don’t get in the way of someone’s
privacy. You don’t follow them around everywhere they go. Yeah, way to make
me into a creep, you assholes. NEXT TIME, WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING MAKE A CREEP
OUT OF A REAL CREEP, INSTEAD OF A REAL NICE GUY!? BECAUSE HE DOESN’T SOUND
NICE RIGHT NOW, DOES HE!? Of course, it’s not important as she said she had
never heard anything about it and why the hell would those girls do such a thing?
Since then, Alohapunk occasionally talks to me over IM on her terms and talks
about how guilty she is that she doesn’t talk to me as much, as I’m
so interesting and attractive and yadda yadda. She then complains about her ‘sort-of
boyfriend, an "asshole living several thousand miles away who doesn’t
care anything for her. If I suggest we meet up or something, she says, "Oh,
no. I’m too busy/girl’s night out/other shit." I play CaptainFreeTherapist
and reassure her she’s a good person, she also tells me not to spread myself
too thin. I’m bound to find someone (yeah, on a campus of neurotic psycho
harpies). I’m not worried, I have plenty of vile hatred to spew, so ahead
and use me, ladies!
Mousy
I don’t have anything against her, but the fact the relationship died a stillborn death
while I was on top of the world was horribly painful (and still is). She was absolutely
beautiful, had a great sense of humor, very intelligent. I suppose we didn’t
have an incredible lot in common, but I think I seemed a breath of fresh air to
her. We talked for hours and hours and other predictable things like that. And
I made sure not to smother her with too much attention on the small campus, I
saw her just maybe once during the week, and once during the weekend. The problem
was the fact she was working too damn hard and trying to do too many classes at
once. So, when she called me and said in a quiet voice that she didn’t have
the time for a relationship, I said, "I understand. Do you what you have
to do for you to have less stress. I hope I made you happy. You’ve made me
the happiest I’ve been since I can remember. Thank you.-- Here’s the
stab in the urethra -- She then went on to say the Let’s be friends, really!
And I said I certainly would. I cried and felt pain at the breakup, sure.
As for the let’s be friends shtick -- All subsequent attempts to meet with her
or talk to her have ended in her evading and shying away and me looking like I’m
trying too damn hard. Well, I got the picture after two or three times and it
feels pretty shitty, frankly. I thought "let’s be friends" means
exactly that. But apparently it means "I’ll never speak to you again,
nor you to me."
On the grand scheme of
things, I meant very little to her. She had had several short-lived boyfriends.
But, wow, do I miss her face and the cuddling and the
conversation... What I learned from the experience -- a healthy relationship (at least, what I perceived
it was until she pulled a fast one) feels great and, among benefiting the other
person, benefits one’s self -- I had less stress. I had more focus in my
work. I felt motivated, inspired. I had something to look forward to on the weekends.
My Brother Turns into EvilGuy
My older brother, attending college at a large university, somehow got a girlfriend for a couple years, who suddenly went, "AUGUGAGAHUGAHG NO!" and terminated the relationship and wouldn’t give a reason why. What with losing such happiness after a lengthy depression in high school, he turned into an EvilGuy and he’s enjoying every moment of it. Some stories related to me:
High
school:
Unattractive Girl (UG) upon hearing my brother speak, "EvilGuy,
you’re bitter."
My brother: "UG, you’re fat." She cries.
A pre-emptive
strike:
"So I’m at a party, right? And there are a ton of cute
girls everywhere. So I decide to talk to one of them. And we’re conversing
when I suddenly realize that she’s just totally boring and not interesting
and not a good person, so I say, "Uh huh. Uh huh. Yeah, listen. I’m
going to go hit on someone more interesting than you." And then I leave her
standing there.
Shutting Up an Uppity
Girl:
"We’re having a party in our frat house, right (he had
to join a frat to get housing in this city. They’re more of a crazy, Animal
House frat, as opposed to a jock frat)? And there’s this one girl sitting
with an extremely drunk guy on our brand new couch. I’m standing on the stairs
above them when I notice he looks like going to throw up, so I caution them, "You
better go outside or to the bathroom if he’s going to throw up." They
ignore me, and he looks like he’s getting even more green in the face. The
girl is half comforting him, half trying to get in his jeans.
"Look,
don’t throw up on the couch, okay? It’s brand new.
The girl gets up and confronts his suggestion with, "Hey! Don’t you tell us what to
do! Who do you think you are that you can-"
Oh. Reasonable warnings ignored and thought to be hostile? Fine. Meet Angry EvilGuy:
"NO, DON’T YOU EVER FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO! GET THE FUCK OUT! NOW! GET THE FUCK OUT BEFORE I FUCKING KILL BOTH OF YOU AND EAT YOUR INTESTINES! GET THE FUCK OUT!" and my brother, not the biggest guy in the world, storms down the steps like he’s a seventy-ton tank. They leave in a major hurry.
Thus endeth my e-mail. Hope you enjoyed it. I look forward to Japan.
(Thanks for everyone who has written. And I hope to put-out one or two new articles in upcoming months, too... -- NG)
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"Men who cherish for women with the highest respect are seldom popular with them." -- Joseph Addison (1672-1719).
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