STINKY MIDDLE-AGED DUDE

Contrary to what you might think, this blogger does not like people.
And, being a person that women do not find appealing in any way, I particularly do not like women.
There are exceptions. Some people of whichever gender are exceptional company and great to socialize with.
But NOT most people, and certainly not most women.


This came particularly into focus over the last week. Normally I find sports talk pointless, displeasing, and staggeringly boring. But the San Francisco team is doing very well, and many people, especially men, are in a giddy fever over the praestations of the peleton wot represents our splendor to the world. And dangit, they cannot speak of anything else.
In precisely that obsessive focus and repetitiveness, the men are now exactly as unbearable as women usually are.
Women talk about handbags, shoes, shopping, and themselves.
Obsessively, and at stultifying length.
The handbags and shoes are what they wish to go shopping for, with the company and credit cards of obedient men that worship them. Who had better be extremely good wage earners with high-status careers, meekly supportive of the accoutrements industry. If a man cannot generously nurture their obsessions, happily talk about them all the time, and further their competitive edge over other women by being a prize to show off and make other women jealous, that man is just not worth associating with.
A woman will tolerate her man yacking on about sports, because no thought or input whatsoever is required, other than occasional punctuation with 'yeah', 'uh huh', 'how about that pizza', or simply admiring looks at the male specimen. And exactly the same is, at the right moment, all she needs from that man when the subject switches to handbags, shoes, shopping, and her own self.

Sports, shoes, and handbags represent extremely similar social dynamics.
Both genders assert their self-obsession by these subjects.
Women know it's all about them anyway.
They are the centre of the universe.
Eventually, and inevitably.
They make sure of it.
Brutal trade-off.


Women have absolutely no use for a middle-aged man who smokes a pipe, refuses to talk about sports, handbags, shoes, or shopping, and doesn't have a high-status career likely to subsidize fashionable accessory and footwear frenzies.

You can understand that female company has become rare in my world.
And I no longer have unrealistic expectations about romance.
I'm fifty three, and I've never bought a handbag.
Women quite rightly stay away.
I'm just wrong.


The men this past week have been quite unbearable. Normally I can switch a discussion slightly sideways, so that some thought is required. This takes patience and creativity, but men are both reasonably sociable as well as malleable, unlike women.
However this approach is nearly impossible now that everyone is in a ball frenzy.
What with the inane cheering and occasional hooting whenever there are groups of people clustered together, even rather unintelligent conversation has disappeared.

Yes, the men have become absolutely as loathsome as the distaff side.
Normally many of them are boring beyond belief, now they're far worse.
And women have absolutely no use for a middle-aged pipe-smoker anyway, so their company isn't an option.


This blogger is cognizant of his limitations.

Can't hide at home anymore - it's NOT a smoke-friendly environment. And has become less so than ever.

Coffee shops are out of the question - no smoking allowed, but incessant yacking on cell-phones and laptops encouraged.

Bars are not part of the picture - deafening sports waffle at present, though that may change soon, meaning more women going on about handbags, shoes, shopping, and snootiness anent middle-aged pipe-smokers who do NOT have high-status careers capable of funding a life of fashion-accessory surplus for the deserving female.

Parks also no can do - it is now illegal to light up there; you will be reported to the police by a stridently self-righteous yoga-pants wearing tofu-snarfing handbagaholic walking a precious chihuahua who feels that her chances of meeting a wonderful barely post-college-age gentleman with suitable prospects are diminished by the offensive presence of a middle-aged pipe-smoker.



Men, mostly, do not provide good company.
Most women cannot provide good company at all, ever, as well as being utterly impossible to even think of as friends, pals,or romantic partners.
Besides, the overwhelming majority of women despise pipe-smokers AND fifty-three year old males, so it would be ridiculous to even consider them as safe or salubrious to associate with.
Battling against their social and biological programming to be rigidly blinkered self-absorbed handbag and shoe collectors who are incapable of holding an actual conversation, ESPECIALLY one that isn't centered about them, is an enterprise that at my age, and as a pipe-smoker who is not super-rich, I am bound to loose.


I guess what I really object to is that I cannot smoke indoors.




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