So here's the plan for the next ten years of your life. How we do it, year by year:
#1 - Find a girl that you really-really like. Spend a year hanging out, fucking, moving in together, fucking, going on holidays, fucking, eating out lots (every Friday is special!), fucking, every Wednesday to Friday is special, fucking, decide to get married, fucking.
#2 - Get engaged. Spend a year hanging out, fucking, planning the wedding, fucking, less eating out and more eating in, fucking, saving for the wedding and honeymoon, fucking, planning who has to be there, fucking.
#3 - Marriage! Get married! Fucking! Honeymoon! Extra fucking! Back home! Fucking! Paying off the wedding and honeymoon cost blowout, fucking, no eating out, fucking, new jobs, fucking, getting bored, fucking.
#4 - House saving. Saving up for a house, fucking, hanging out, fucking, getting bored, occasional movie to kill the tedium. Do less stuff outside because the weather is bothering her and you feel bad about going out without her. Fucking.
#5 - House buying. Looking for houses, fucking, getting pissed with all the crap houses out there, fucking, elation at finding a suitable house, fucking, depression because the house fell through, fucking, more pissed because of the crap houses out there, fucking, depression and crying, fucking, finding the perfect house, fucking, rapturous elation because you got the house, fucking, problems with the bank, fucking, you FINALLY got the house, fucking, moving in, christen every room celebratory fucking!
#6 - Living happily ever after. Working hard, getting a pay rise, fucking, TV, home improvement, fucking, TV, holiday, fucking, stressing over the holiday blowout, budgeting, TV, fucking, gardening, getting plump.
#7 - Less than happily ever after. Budgeting, working hard, getting a pay rise, fucking, TV, holiday, fucking, bonus, screaming fits because you want to pay off extra on the house instead of a grand holiday, passive-aggressive resentment, TV, getting overweight.
#8 - Giving in. You give in. She now controls the finances. Eating out, holiday, girls nights out while you stay home to watch rented movies and TV, screaming shit-fits about being the fun police if you mention money and bills, she comes home drunk at any hour (btw she has probably drunken-fucked at least 5 other guys during this year - don't worry though, they "don't count"). Fat.
#9 - Self-respect. Finally you get your shit together and manage to keep your finances at least semi-under-control. There are some screaming shit-fits and crying jags, but at least you're not going bankrupt. Fucking. Holiday, that stays in-budget. She goes to gym and starts getting trim. There's light at the end of the tunnel. Fucking.
#10 - Divorce! The light at the end of the tunnel was an oncoming train. Yay, cash and prizes for her! She goes to do her Eat-Pray-Love thing while trashing your name everywhere. You sell the house and give her half, including paying off an extra $30+k in credit-card debt that you didn't know she'd racked up on the sly over the past year. Add ongoing alimony (and possibly child-support) to that because "the poor dear is used to getting by on far more than the pittance she makes now". You are reduced to living in your Mommas basement or on a friend's couch or in a van down by the river. You are always tired, lazy from habit, fat, and generally friendless. You seriously consider suicide.
Note 1: Optionally add a child at any point (for extra fun, twins!).
Note 2: For every child, change one "fucking" to "bitching" for that and subsequent years.
Note 3: If you ever run out of "fucking" in the year from children (above), add 3 "bitching" (or optionally one "false rape claim" or "domestic violence claim" in years 8+).
Bonus round: One or more children may not actually be yours. Happy wake up call and add extra to the thoughts of committing suicide. But you still have to pay child-support! It's all for the childreeeen!
If you survive year #11, you are back to being slim from very little food or working out at the gym, one tough and calloused motherfucker with a practical start on the Red Pill. Aka a complete piece of shit, according to most women. Go fuck a storm (women love complete pieces of shit) and don't make the same mistake again.
By the way: women call this process the "starter marriage". Enjoy *that* little expose of modern society's poison.