No, the title of this post is not referencing me or my life - I have simply been very, very busy in my personal life for the last couple of months. It suddenly occurred to me tonight that I've been bloody remiss about saying hello to people and keeping in touch in general.
This post is about the "sensitive new age guy", aka doormat, aka soyboy, et-fucking-cetera. (™) Specifically, their bloody propensity to go and bleed emotionally in public for the delectation of all and sundry.
Of course, wimminz love it when a man goes and bleeds in public. He lets his hair down, snivels and cries, etc etc ad goddamn nauseum.
Wimminz love this behavior because she immediately knows: I can push this pussy around.
Wrap him around her finger, make him dance for her, a source of endless amusement and entertainment. Pointing him out to her friends: "Hey, lookit this pussy! Watch me push him around! Ain't that cuuuuute?!"
Enough to make your balls shrink with some fucked-up sense of sympathy.
Men, we need to harden up. There's no need to bleed in public for all and sundry.
Your brother or a buddy gets killed in a car crash, or dies from cancer, or something. A friend asks us out, we might say: "Nah, a brother/mate of mine died. Gonna have a drink in private to remember him by." (Or maybe: "Me and some of his mates are getting together to drink and remember him by." Or whatever you-all decide to do. He loves hunting? Go hunting to remember him by.)
To other Men, it's immediately understood.
Nothing more is needed.
In such situations, we just need a little time to deal with things.
To teh wimminz: "Oh! Oh! That's terrible! Do you need to talk about it?" Bleat, bleat, fuckin' bleat, in the most senseless and demeaning manner possible.
I sometimes wonder if they deliberately cheapen such situations (because y'know, men are insensitive brutes and akerchully have no feelings and the fuckin' like) or they're just completely clueless (same non-reasoning applies).
(Maybe a good one will understand like another Man does. I've not met this personally, though I will admit to the possibility of 1% actually being capable of some sensitivity and sense and decorum and the like. If you know of one like that, the chances are they're family or a friend of the buddy and going through all this also.)
This is why it's always good to do your bleeding in private. Other Men (especially the ones who matter) will respect you for it. The few Men who you might open up to about such things, will understand the deep gift that they have been given. (They may not have anything to actually say, 'cause it's an awkward thing, yet they will understand.)
Best of all, you don't get your deepest and most painful situations shat on thoughtlessly and meaninglessly by the attack-bunnies and retards which abound in this decaying excuse of a civilization.
My brothers, I raise to you all a glass of Grand Marnier. May your lives be blessed with strong Men who you are proud to walk alongside. Maybe, even occasionally, bleed beside.
