So here I am in America, I do talk with people. Mostly the older set, because they are actually interesting (astronomers, a guy who was in the NASA space program, engineers who built missiles, an ex-army man who was involved in the Titan II missile biz). Very interesting people.
I don't bother with the younger ones. The males're more interested in making money and showing it off so that they can get their dick wet. The females are brain dead followers of the Karshitdians and whatever loopy drama they can stir up in their lives (a weird thing by itself). The things that us old farts kinda look down on...
Youth, their heedlessness makes me feel old and fuckin' crusty.
Yet for really twisted obsessions, the older females seem to be tops. This is both in NZ and America. Probably the rest of the world too, I have no real personal experience of that though.
The number of older wimminz this past three weeks. They learn that I'm single, the first thing that pops out of their mouths is: "We need to get you a girlfriend." With the obvious "you need to be married" bullshit at a deeper level of meaning in their words.
Yep, like that's gonna happen. I'm picking that Hell will achieve negative Kelvin first.
Of course, being a single man with some spare $$$ to enjoy himself with, that's a straightforward combination of threat/opportunity for wimminz. Can't let him run around loose - he'll wake up the other plantation slaves. Besides, he's got $$$ that some woman isn't sucking dry.
This situation cannot be borne!
So I've had the fortune (aka pain in the ass) of having wimminz making ominous rumbling noises in my direction. All being attempts to curtail my freedom, disguised as "opportunities" to "get a good wimminz in my life" aka become host to a pathetic class of parasitic fuckin' leech.
When I say pathetic, I mean definitively past it. Not to say that some of these wimminz ain't good-looking for chicks in their fourties and fifties. (MakeApp. Use it. Even on the older ones - no, especially on the older ones!) A couple of them would have been real stunners in their twenties.
They're still single/divorced and looking though, which immediately clues you in to the fact that they just couldn't manage one of three things:
1/ choose the right type of man to start with (he was abusive)
2/ stick with the man they'd chosen for more than a decade or so (she got bored)
3/ find the right type of man in the first place (too busy blowing and riding those musical cocks on the carousel)
Yet at this age they are stuck with the weirdest idea that they're still God's gift to men plus still have that twisted obsession with getting married again. He'd better have a giant cock as well. As if the fuckin' world owes it to them or something.
'Scuse me, Martha. You ain't all that. Go squat on your purple cactus for a while.
Because I ain't giving up my freedom for some worn-out loose cunt that's already shat out three watermelons aka womb-turds to multiple men, and is incapable of having any more. There's only downside, no upside atall (having kiddies for the next generation is the only upside, and not much of one these days with frivorce and the weaponisation of the kiddies against the father).
So on the whole: she shoulda planned better and stuck with her "starter marriage" - a term that needs to burn in hell, along with all wimminz who think that way.
That said, there have been a couple of wimminz who knew that I'm from New Zealand and there was no hope of any relationship and who still made some determined moves on me. Perhaps it's because I'm in reasonable shape for a 52yo, perhaps they just wanted some "exotic" foreign dick, perhaps they really thought that I'd change my mind after "sampling" their "wares".
Like I said to someone: I didn't come here looking for some pussy. All it'd take is a false rape accusation and *wham* BPS is in jail for 6-8 months, game and life over man. Supremely fucked.
Though I'll admit that it's fuckin' hard at times, when a halfway-decent-looking (MakeApp, MakeApp, MakeApp) specimen is skilfully putting the moves on you (plenty of practice, that one). I'm not a fuckin' stone, aye. The $$$ that I have is a magnet that's sometimes hard to hide, the temptation is there when they determinedly make all the effort...
Bought to you from the back-bed of an RV up near Grand Canyon. By myself, driving the wimminz en-masse mad because I'm single. Just remember that rawdogging the roadwhore is a supremely bad idea, no matter how tempting...so don't let the camel get its head in the tent door.