Women Are The Real Assholes


Firstly, I apologize for the wait as a lot of outside factors have been taking up my time, as well as my own independent “research” if you will relating to this post.  Before I lay out my opinion, let me make a few things clear:  This will be an extremely long read & I’m aware that what I’m about to present to you doesn’t apply to all women.  That’s first & foremost.  If it doesn’t apply to you, it doesn’t apply.  There is no witch hunt or me pointing fingers in an attempt to get you to confess your sins.  It’s merely me stating my own observations either by reading, watching or direct interaction.  Those of you that know me know that I analyze everything & take pleasure in looking at shit from more than one angle.  I’m also aware that men have/display some of the same characteristics I will be mentioning.  However, fact remains…this isn’t about men.  We have our own subset of issues that are more widely displayed, recognized & persecuted.  Some of those are caused by women’s tendencies, but that’s a whole different post I’ll likely be addressing at another time.  Also, be aware that I don’t “hate” women.  I’m a heterosexual male.  Let that sink in for a second.  This isn’t a misogynistic rant, just a presentation of information in which you’re free to take its value on your own terms.  I hate having to explain my reasons for my thoughts, but I understand that some adults don’t act like adults & need to be walked through shit to have an understanding.  With all of that on the table, let’s begin.

The assholism in women starts at an early age.

Take a journey back to when you were young.  You may have been “daddy’s little girl”, which is fine, but at some point your views may have shifted.  Your parents may have done everything in their power to protect you & instill some type of intrinsic values in you to carry you through life into adulthood, where you’d be able to make your own decisions.  I use “your” in this case because it’s the basis of every woman’s life.  You are loved.  You are taught the ways of the world in a sheltered manner because your mind isn’t  yet capable of seeing things for what they really are.  Everything is given to you without much resistance because you’re delicate.  That’s not necessarily a bad thing because, if I had a daughter, I would do the same.  The idea is to keep the trust line with your parents so you know that no matter what happens in your life, you can always turn to them.  They will carry your burden, especially your father.  He is to be the man that you should compare every man that will come into your life to, setting a damn near impossible standard.  This is actually exactly how it should be.  If you ever doubt for one second how you should be treated by a guy you fall in love with, your immediate thought should be what your father would think or how he would act in situations of emotion.  Don’t confuse that as some twisted way of saying “fuck the guy most like your father”.  I’m merely pointing out that no man will love you unconditionally like your father & the one closest to, or at least trying to, should be the one to win your heart.

Now, not all fathers are created equal.  You have your perfect dads that would kill for the safety of their daughter, even over a verbal dispute…then you have the ones who never gave a damn.  There is a wide spectrum of difference in fathers but for the most part, you get the general idea.  As young girls grow older, they learn ways to manipulate their fathers.  Crying, display of innocence/ignorance & playing the “hate” card in rebellion to name a few.  Typically your mother may have set the ground rules & your father played the backup of the decisions.  This is where the assholism starts.  For example, let’s say you wanted to go to a party & your mother voiced her concern.  You probably asked your father in a slew of different ways — either outright, pretending to be upset because your mother said “no”, or rebelled…by going anyway or playing him against her by exclaiming that they don’t understand you/never let you do anything.  In most cases, he would allow you to go because he doesn’t want his precious little girl harboring ill feelings towards him.

That’s just one example out of many of the hundreds of different scenarios & outcomes.  The moment you have realized your indirect power over your father is when you started to shape your future of manipulating men.  Let me remind you that it doesn’t apply to all, but a good 75% or better of you know exactly what I’m talking about & are probably denying it as you read.  However, you won’t stop here & neither will I.  We still have much to go through…

The more contact you’ve had with guys, the more you’ve learned to sway things in your favor.

Think back to high school.  This is where the stage is set for how you will interact with men for the rest of your lives.  You were one of two types: the attractive girl that every guy wanted to talk to, or the unattractive girl that barely went noticed.  We’ll cover both aspects for the sake of point.

The unattractive girl went unnoticed.  You probably had a crush on a guy but you weren’t his type.  He was probably into a cheerleader or a “maturing” girl whose body was filling out better.  They all were & it caused you to feel a certain type of way.  You wanted their attention & it wasn’t given.  You probably buried your head in books or didn’t spend much time interacting outside of school other than the friends you had that were in the same playing field.  You didn’t necessarily want to be popular, but you wanted to be noticed more than “the girl that always gets an A in History”.  You probably tried a few different looks/styles, knowing that one day you’d eventually evolve, & on that day you would show them what they were missing all along.  Some of you may even had went the promiscuous route because, well, it’s attention.  There are many different scenarios that could’ve been in play but unfortunately I don’t have time to toss them all on the table.

The attractive girl had all of the guys at her feet.  You were part of the popular crowd…always invited to parties, in the upper echelon of students at the lunch table & you had more opportunities to interact with people.  Chances are you had the nerds longing for your attention but they knew you were out of their league & you probably kept a steady boyfriend, or at least a round of suitors.  Your manipulation started early because you knew guys wanted you & there were things you traded your attention for — homework, a ride home from school instead of taking the bus, not paying for your own lunch…to name a few.  Just think of the possibilities.  If they didn’t exist for you, know they existed for someone of your caliber, or “status” if you will.  Whatever you wanted was available to you with little resistance.

College or 18+ years…

Now you’ve reached adulthood & your skills at manipulation have vastly improved.  Some aspects from high school have carried over although some of the people may have dissipated.  But who needs them, right?  The world is in your palm.  There’s a totally new playing field.  Now the guys 21+ are available because you’re of legal age.  You can obtain alcohol from them without much issue.  If you were the unattractive girl, you probably found your sweet spot & have evolved.  Guys are taking notice of you now & are making an attempt for your attention where they haven’t before.  Although you’re a late bloomer, the concept still remains.  We won’t dwell much here because instead of high school, the stage is set larger — college parties, house parties, moving out on your own (for some of you…) & generally being less antagonized by the restrictions of your parents.  You’re basically legally free to do whatever the fuck you want.

Let’s take a look at that evolution, moving forward to 21 years old…

This is where the heavyweight of assholism takes place.  It probably starts out as going to a bar or club with friends.  You already know that guys generally want one thing.  Many of them have approached you.  Why shouldn’t you use what they want to get what you want?

Stop for a second & repeat that sentence to yourself.  Why shouldn’t you use what they want to get what you want?

This is the exact basis of where your being the bigger asshole takes place.  For the moment we’ll expand on the club/bar scene.

Men want to talk to you…you want a free drink.

Not all women drink, but for those of you that do, let me ask you a question.  On an average night out, how many guys have bought you a drink…whether they offered to or you asked them to?  You can lie to yourself all you want saying that “you go out to have fun with your friends” or “I can pay for my own drinks”, but how many times have you turned down a free drink?  How many times have you stood at the bar beside a guy attempting conversation with you & said “No thanks, I don’t accept free drinks”?  In addition, how many times have you offered to buy a guy a drink?  We both know the answer to these questions, so I’ll spare the depth of exploration.  Some of you even leave home with no money because you know for a fact that all you have to do is look lonely or pop a smile in a guy’s direction & you won’t have to purchase a single drink on your own.  Some of you even have the balls to pull this shit on more than one guy in the same fucking bar/club.  I’ll give some of you this: sometimes you’ll even stay long enough to hold a small, meaningless conversation, but it stops there.  Chances are, he’ll ask for your number & you won’t give it to him, or he gets a fake.  Maybe you give him your actual number, but you won’t speak to him after that night unless he really held your attention.  It doesn’t matter that he’s a nice guy or that he’s just looking for someone to talk to.  You don’t know him at all, but you sure don’t want to waste your potential talking to him.  You got what you wanted, so now it’s time to move on…whether it be the “I have a boyfriend” bullshit or “I’m just here hanging out with my girls”.

Of course some of us don’t know any better.  We bought you that drink so we’ve already sealed our fate.  I’m willing to bet while we’re still trying to continue conversation, you’ve already started calculating your exit strategy.  Unless he’s really good looking, muscular & bearded, you’re not sticking around.  We’ll expand on that later, don’t worry.  But, my question is, if you supposedly have a boyfriend or are just having a girls’ night out, why did you accept the free drink?  I personally have learned long ago not to buy women drinks in bars.  It basically boils down to me being aware of many elements that come along with that order.  You’re not obligated to speak to anyone…true.  You don’t owe men anything because they bought you a drink…also true.  However, common sense tells you that the moment a guy looks at you & says “hi”, there’s a high chance he will offer you a drink, to which 99% of the time, you will accept.  Do you see the issue?  Accepting a free drink when you aren’t looking for any type of connection, even by small conversation, is an asshole move.  I could be wrong.  Maybe you’re willing to sacrifice a few moments of your time spent with a stranger learning about them, but how about this: the moment that guy offers a drink in the beginning (which is a rookie mistake, by the way), if you’re interested in what he has to say, how about replying with “before we order anything, let’s just talk for a moment first”?  Or, if you don’t want to waste your precious time, decline the drink with a respectful reply like “I’m sorry, you seem like a decent guy but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea so I’m going to have to decline.”  Do you see how that works?  At that point, the situation is out of your hands & if the guy pursues, he’s actually harassing you.

Speaking of harassment…

…it’s a very touchy subject.  Harassment is subjective.  I agree that nobody has the right to touch you as you’re walking by, call you names or otherwise present some type of threat to your person.  I completely get it.  There is also the fact that some guys aren’t versed in speaking to women, so they may call you out by the color shirt you’re wearing or make remarks about your ass as you walk by.  I won’t take the path of saying “you knew what you were wearing when you left home” because it’s a bit insensitive, however I will say that some of you have different intentions than others, in the same regard that some men have different intentions than others.  No, you shouldn’t wear loose fitting jeans.  No, they don’t have the right to make you feel a way about your body.  That’s common sense.  However…some women, in fact, do dress a certain way for attention.  That doesn’t apply to all of you, no shit.  I’m simply saying, be aware of how easy it is to mistake between the two.  I’m not saying give these guys a pass.  I’m saying that some of you unwillingly take the repercussions of others who flaunt their body with the intention of getting what they want.  Those are the assholes.

The girl with the big ass titties in an open shirt that wants men to look because they have an agenda.  “Well what am I supposed to wear?  Am I supposed to cover them?  Do you know how hard it is to find clothes…”; yeah…I get it.  However, I’m repeating myself so hopefully you’ll see what I’m saying: some of you unwillingly take the repercussions of others who flaunt their body with the intention of getting what they want.  Take Instagram for instance.  On any given day, you can find women flaunting their goods for “likes” or “thirst”.  Here’s some examples I’ll take from random Instagram accounts:



Sure, it could be argued that these chicks just “like the way it looks on them”, but they draw attention to two areas of interest…two areas that they know guys will like.  I have nothing against it because well, I like looking.  However, it’s fortunate for me that I see past the bullshit & I know why, which makes me refrain from “thirst” & conduct myself in a different manner.  Again, I’m not telling you what to wear, in case you’re dense enough to not see what I mean.  I’m telling you that your reasons for wearing something like either of these above are different than their reasons.  Of course, as you could guess, their comments section is filled with all kinds of “thirst” & lewd replies.  Even further, the one pictured on the bottom has a boyfriend who is in other pictures where her body isn’t visible & has received less “likes”.  Interesting.

Assholism at its finest, directly fitting into what I said earlier about using what they want to get what you want.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t stop there.

False rape accusations…

…is a very touchy subject yet again.  Feel free to stop reading here/skip this section if you must, but I absolutely have to walk this line because it’s a very real thing & I will probably hit a nerve here.


I firmly believe that non-consensual sex is a disgusting thing & rapists should themselves be raped & thrown under jails with nothing but a slice of bread & water to consume for the rest of their days.  I also believe that it is wrong to destroy the life of someone with a false accusation.  I don’t mean changing your mind in the middle of sex.  That’s rape.  “No” means “no”.  Your being drugged or incoherent is also rape.  Both parties being inebriated is iffy as it’s unfair to say that “the man should’ve known better”.  I personally believe it’s a bit absurd to think that a drunk man is more in control than a drunk woman if both parties are awake & able to communicate.  You don’t have to agree.  However, if they are both drunk & the woman passes out, or if she says no & although he is drunk, he continues, then yes…I would absolutely say that is rape.

However, both parties being drunk & it’s consensual (which means the act is agreed upon by both parties from start to finish), only to wake up the next morning & the woman have no recollection of what happened, isn’t rape to me.  The fucked up thing is, both parties could have no recollection of having consensual sex & the man would automatically be at fault.  Does that really sound fair?  If both parties were intoxicated & it was consensual from start to finish but he remembers & she doesn’t, how is it his fault?  I’ve been so drunk that I’ve blacked out & acted completely normal before, according to the accounts of others, but this isn’t about me.  At this point it’s his word against hers & more than likely he will be charged with rape.  The only real solution is to just abstain from sexual acts unless you’re both completely sober, which is easier said than done, but it’s truly the only way.

In light of all of that & the various arguments in relation, some women actually do lie, unfortunately.  There are women in existence that were coherent, were consenting, but in the end to save face…whether it be persecution from others or just waking up the next morning realizing their mistake…lie about being raped.  This is probably the most inexcusable asshole move of all.  You know what’s at stake for the person you’re accusing.  You know you’re lying.  Yet, you choose to save face & preserve whatever status you hold because you chose to sleep with someone & prefer not to be embarrassed by your actions.  You would much rather ruin someone’s life than to say that you fucked someone you probably wouldn’t had fucked if you were sober, or that you were simply horny & they happened to be there.  You refuse to own up to it because the sympathy from & not being shamed by others means a lot more to you than falsely accusing someone & ruining their lives.  Being falsely labeled as a sex offender is a major detriment.  It shows up on your criminal background for life.  I urge you to think about this the next time you have a few drinks and find someone of interest.  If you can’t control yourself, either abstain from drinking or at the very least, have someone around you to prevent you from bringing someone home or leaving with someone.  Not only does it prevent you from the possibility of actually being raped, but it prevents you from having consensual sex then changing your mind about it the next morning.  All in all, it’s necessary for each party involved.

Lastly, it’s not all about you.

Going back to the very beginning, I mentioned that women use manipulation to get what they want.  This also extends into relationships, where for whatever reason, a lot of women tend to get comfortable & feel as if it’s “their way or the highway”.  I view relationships as an equal, mutual bond between two people.  Communication is key.  It doesn’t fucking matter who texts who first, or other retarded things you may think is a “sign”.  Moreover, of course you should respect your partner’s opinion, but neither should sway to the other’s every wish simply because you’re together.  If what you want to do doesn’t threaten the sensible solidarity of your relationship, then by all means, you don’t need permission for anything.  If I want to go play Xbox at a friend’s house but my girlfriend wants me to stay & watch Friends with her, it shouldn’t spark an argument if I choose Xbox as long as I’m not being a dick about it.  You don’t have to spend every waking moment with each other.  On the same note, if we rarely to never do anything together, I can see where the concern would lie.  You should have your hobbies just as I do.  Don’t be an asshole & start an argument because we don’t want to do everything you want.  It’s uncalled for.  Instead, how about suggesting that we do something that both of us enjoy or bring up something that you think would be fun for us to try.  That doesn’t mean “make a list of things you like doing & ask me to do them with you”.  While that’s subjective, it would be better if we both made a list of things, compiled the lists into one & decided to do things from it together.  I’ll pick 5 things from your list, you pick 5 from mine & we’ll schedule it out over a period of time.  Do you see how easy that is?  It’s called “compromise”…you might have heard of it.

Let’s take a step backwards though & talk about initial dating & preferences.  Women have a LOT of asshole “preferences”.  Remember earlier when I mentioned being “really good looking, having muscles & a beard”?  These seem to be the new fad of what women want.  It’s not good enough to be smart, able to hold a conversation or just an all around good guy.  Those, among others, are just a bonus if you fit their other criteria.  Sure, you should absolutely be attracted to someone you choose to date…I won’t deny that at all, but why is it such a burden to feel someone out by getting to know them instead of having a dictionary of criteria they should meet at the fucking door before they even have a shot?  I hate using social media as an example, but it’s probably the most honest display of how women think when it comes to dating, so I’ll use a couple of Tinder profiles as an example:


Exhibit A: She’s 35 & divorced.  Now, I don’t know what caused her to get divorced, but chances are, her attitude played a part in it.  Look at this shit.  I understand not being impressed by materials or muscles, but why does a guy have to be “pimping his kids out” by using pics with them?  He can’t be a loving father being upfront about having kids that are a part of his life?  What the fuck does she mean by “Don’t bore me with stupid small talk”?  And to top shit off, you basically have to be into the music she listens to?  Asshole.


Exhibit B:  I understand the necessity of taking the time to get to know someone, but her “final note” makes it obvious what type of person she is.  Which brings me to question…why do women feel that men need to “handle” them?  Why can’t you be an adult & if we disagree, speak sensibly & be rational?  Asshole.


Exhibit C:  So let me get this straight…she “won’t go running with you”, but you “must love dogs and the outdoors”.  Interesting.  Asshole.


Exhibit D:  Nevermind the fact that we may have 4,000 different things in common…if I don’t eat meat or only like it cooked a certain way, we’re incompatible.  So basically FUCK my life choices.  Gotcha.  Asshole.

As you may have guessed, these 4 women were very attractive — I don’t typically use rating scales, but for the sake of example, I’d say solid 8s & 9s, but their attitudes brought them down to 4s & 5s for me.  Sadly, the buck doesn’t stop here.  There’s a very large percentage of women with this same attitude.  Of course, your preferences are your own business, but shit like this is…well, you get the point.

On the flip side, take a look at Exhibit E:


Here’s a seemingly decent woman just searching for a generally nice guy.  Going through her pictures, I’d say she was a borderline 6, but her outlook made me swipe right.  Ok, one more for the sake of stupidity…


Decent profile…she was fairly attractive (borderline 8), but…why the fuck would you make your Snapchat account public if you don’t want people to add you?  Also, how the fuck is adding her “creepy”?  Women use that term very, very loosely.  A guy trying to talk to you at the bar, you decline, only to come out of the bathroom to see him standing right there = creepy.  A guy standing behind you & sniffing your hair = creepy.  A guy knowing where you live because he used geo-tagging from your pictures to figure it out = creepy.  Adding a fucking Snapchat account that you clearly posted on your Tinder profile = not creepy.

If you’re still with me thus far, I believe I’ve made my point.  There’s so much more I could touch on, but this should be enough for you to open your eyes & see exactly what the title entails.  Again, I’m aware we have our fucked up moments & whatnot, but the above noted is shit that only women are capable of.  Take a look around you next time you’re in a public spot.  Think of the women you know.  Think of how you act/react in certain situations.  These, amongst other reasons, are why I particularly don’t date often.  I just personally don’t have time to deal with shit like this.

– Hype (@_maliante)


Racism Is Stupid…

Now, before I get into this, I would like to reiterate something that nobody ever considers — racism isn’t just linked to whites.  With that said, I’ll continue.

Yes, I’m aware of slavery, oppression & all that other shit, however, a Black person calling a White person “cracker”, an Asian ” chink”, a Latino “Jose”, etc. is all the same as a White person calling a Black person ” nigger”.  Now, some have gone as far to make the excuse that “there’s history behind that word”, as if other slurs get a pass because “the same harsh treatment wasn’t endured”.

Let’s analyze that for a moment.

Some very brief history…

Indian Muslims took Asian slaves in the 1700s & 1800s.  Japanese took Chinese slaves during WWII.  There are still Asian slaves from countries like the Philippines, South Korea, Taiwan & Thailand being brought to the US in present day.

Muslims also took 5-6 million White slaves between 920AD & 1920AD.  That’s 1000 years.  In the 1600s, more than 500,000 Irish were killed & 300,000 were sold as slaves.  Don’t forget about the Germans, Jews & the Holocaust.

Mexico had its bout with slavery extending into the millions, some of which is still alive & well.  There are Mexican children being sold in US, Canada, East Asia, Africa & Europe.  Today.  As in 2015.

…did we forget about the Native Americans…?

I believe you get the point.

So, as you can see, every race has endured slavery & I’m quite certain that racial epithets were used towards them as well because well, they are used to break the oppressed down mentally… to make them feel worthless.  Yet, nobody takes that into consideration if it’s not the word “nigger”.  Interesting.

Also, let’s not get these thoughts confused with knighting of any type, especially as I am multiracial/of multicultural background.  My goal here is to show you how ridiculous some of these arguments/discussions & uninformed rants are.  If the way Blacks are treated in situations upsets you, as it rightfully should, let’s take a moment to reflect on all of the disservices inflicted upon other human beings because of their features, or their skin color, accents, beliefs…the list goes on.

Open your fucking eyes & stop being hypocrites, no matter what race you are.  I especially see it with Blacks as of late due to the recent & past shootings, but that’s not where it stops.

There are a million other points I could make but this one stuck out to me earlier because of a discussion on “harmful words”.

You don’t solve a problem by deflection or exclusion.  You solve it by helping eliminate it.

I’m done here.

– Hype

Meeting Women In Bars Is The Fucking Worst

Sup folks?  Damn, it’s been quite some time since I’ve posted anything here; mainly because I STILL don’t have a fucking laptop.  Yes, me, the IT Specialist by trade, has no laptop.  I think it boils down to the fact that I never just randomly have $500-600 to blow on one.  Of course I’m not gonna buy some “el cheapo” special for $299 at Target or something.  C’mon son.

Anyway, before I start, for the ones that take things out of context easily, this does not apply to all.  I’m going to outline the typical women I come across in bars that absolutely mentally disgust me & I’m sure many guys (& women too, actually) can agree.  Ah who am I kidding?  Take offense.  I don’t give a lesbian titty.  That’s not my problem.

The Overly Intellectual

Like anyone else with a general sense of thinking, I enjoy having an intelligent, or thought provoking/opinion trading conversation.  It doesn’t really matter the topic as long as genuine input is provided.  Quite often I’ll spark a conversation out of certain curiosity that will drift off into different subjects, much like anyone else.  I’m completely cool with someone not having knowledge of something & not having much to give verbally, & I can sense when someone wants to keep up with what I’m inquiring or providing my opinion with.

What throws me off though, is women who want to assert their intelligence, as if either someone has doubted it in the past or they feel as if we’re having a pissing contest over who knows more shit than the other.  That’s not what I’m here for.  I’m here to drink & have a good time.  Yes, I’m glad you’re not stupid & yes, I’m sure you take pride in knowing things…as you should…but more talking about topics that you find interesting & engaging, less talking about your accomplishments.  I could give two togetherly rubbed dicks about who sat in classrooms longer.

The “You Should Buy Me A Drink” Girl

Let me reiterate.  I do NOT buy chicks drinks at the bar.  It’s not that I’m a dick, or I’m broke, or whatever other fairy tale you can come up with to explain my behavior.  It’s quite simple actually & I’m sure about 70% of guys have been through this.  I have overwhelmingly honest female friends, so I’m well aware that some (keyword) women leave their homes with zero dollars in their pockets because they’re cute & they know if they give some guy or two a few minutes of attention, they’ll sucker him into adding a couple of drinks to his tab.  Nope.  Not me, sweetheart.

I find these chicks to be the bane of my existence.  I typically leave with a set amount of money so that I: a) don’t get too shitfaced & b) don’t blow my entire paycheck on alcohol.  I don’t plan for you women in my drinking budget.  Not to mention it’s rude as fuck to act like you’re interested in a guy, coerce him into buying you a drink, then you disappear or magically have a boyfriend or whatever the case may be.  In other words, you’re using your looks to get what you want & it’s sad that it’s socially acceptable to be attractive & have the world in your palm.  I won’t be a part of it.  It bothers me that some guys are ok with this.

The Overly Drunk Chick

I’ve run into these a lot lately.  Usually they’re the ones from above that have scored free drinks all night & can barely stand.  A few weeks ago, I wound up taking some chick home (hers, not mine) because she was way wasted & her friend, who left with a friend of mine, asked me to get her home & gave me gas money.  If she hadn’t lived a few neighborhoods over from me I would’ve just called her a cab.

Chicks like this have already been hit on by multiple guys, who either bought her drinks or see that she’s fucked up & want de sex.  Guys are basically wolves when it comes to this.  I refused to be placed in that category so it’s in my best judgment to act as if they don’t exist.

“Girls’ Night Out”

Ok…I get it.  You’re there to have a good time with your girls.  You didn’t come to a bar where a lot of singles tend to hang out & are on the prowl on both gender ends to be bothered with speaking to a guy.  You just want to dress & dance provocatively so you can turn down any guy that approaches you because tonight is all about having some chill time with your girls. [/sarcasm]

This is the most retarded shit I’ve ever witnessed in my life.  It upsets me that women have this mentality.  Correct, you don’t owe anyone anything, but these poor guys have no way of knowing that’s what you’re there for.  Being with a group of girls doesn’t signify that shit, especially if you’re all buddy buddy when you run into a guy you know.  A polite “I’m sorry, I’m not here to mingle with new people but thank you anyway” works when approached.  Yes, I get that some guys are fucking hard headed/can’t take a hint, but at least you weren’t a bitch about it I suppose.  Remember: karma is some real shit.

A guy dancing up on you isn’t a cause to be rude.  He’s a guy.  He doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing.  Guide him in the right direction instead of being rude & walking away or scoffing as if he’s beneath you.  Again, I get that you don’t owe anyone shit but be humble.  You might be rude to the guy & he waits for you outside with a shotgun in his coat or some shit.  People are crazy.

These are just a few examples of women I either have encountered before I took the leap of just staying to myself/my friends, or ones I’ve watched other guys get burned by.  I know you’re not all like this but I feel it’s better for me.  I won’t say that if a chick genuinely approaches me that a conversation doesn’t take place but long gone are the days of me doing the approaching.

It’s fucked that I’ve been forced to think this way but eh…it is what it is.

– @_maliante

“Til Death Do Us Part” (Pt.2)

So, following the previous psycho shit, I had been single for a couple of months.  I had ignored a total of 128 calls, somewhere around 80 texts & trashed numerous notes left in my mailbox.  There’s no coming back from that shit.  None.

I’m in bed dozing the fuck off when I hear a car pull up outside.  Soon after, there were rocks being thrown at my window.  I open it to find Jocelyn, Em & some other chick outside with Jocelyn begging me to come out so we could talk.  There was no way in hell.  I reminded her that it was dumb late & asked her to leave before my neighbors woke up.  This dumb bitch decides to lean on the horn instead.

I made the deal with her that if she would get the fuck out, we could meet at a restaurant after work.  She agreed & left.

No more than an hour later, I receive a call from Em telling me I “have” to rush down to the hospital cause Jocelyn had been hurt.  I reminded her of the agreement she witnessed & told her it wasn’t my problem, hung up & resumed sleep.

I was leaving for work when I realized why Jocelyn was in the hospital — this psycho bitch cut herself & wrote “I still love you” in her blood, on my fucking windshield!!!

After seeing this, I never spoke to her again.  Still haven’t to this day.  Last I heard, she went to a mental institution shortly after she left the hospital.  I’m still cool with her younger sister, I suppose, but I have yet to ask about her & it’s been some years now.  She’s clearly still alive because I haven’t received any funeral invitations or anything related.

That girl had a mountain of problems.  In a way I feel like I should have just went outside that night, but so many things went through my head like: a) she had a knife of some sort.  How do I know her unstable ass wouldn’t had stabbed me?  b) She was drunk.  Maybe she just didn’t know what she was doing.  c) If I had went outside, maybe she would’ve just went home & went to sleep.

Be clear, I don’t blame myself for any of the shit that happened that night.  My only wish is that I had a sign in the very beginning when she was so upfront about what she wanted, that things would turn out the way they did.  However, as the saying goes: hindsight is 20/20.


“Til Death Do Us Part” (Pt.1)

As you read the title, you’re probably thinking this pertains to marriage — quite the contrary actually.  I have told this story a few times as the topic came up, but never in a solitary setting, or “blog” if you will…or at least not that I can remember.  Fair warning, this is a story I wish I could make up.  The names & events are true & although I’ll try to keep it short, nothing is spared.  If you know me, you know I have no issue sharing things that aren’t too personal.

Anyway, a bit of back story — I met this girl, Jocelyn, quite some time ago & things started off as a “friends with benefits” situation.  Jocelyn was a gorgeous Colombian chick with the body of a goddess.  If I had to compare, I’d say she had the face of a younger Salma Hayek with the build of Vida Guerra in her prime.  We met through a mutual female friend I worked with at the time.  She would come up to the job on occasion to take said friend to lunch & we would always catch eyes & smile at each other.  Since they would always be together, I figured they were “together”, so I never really spoke outside of being cordial.  One day I would find this wasn’t the case.

As I was wrapping up a call (I worked at a call center), Emilie (the mutual friend) walked over to me & presented me with two cupcakes & explained to me that Jocelyn made them for me & that she wanted to fuck me.  I thought she was joking until she showed me the text thread between them with Jocelyn asking if Em had told me yet.  I was kinda excited to be honest.  Em gave me Jocelyn’s number & I texted her almost immediately.  Fuck the whole “wait x amount of time” shit — I was now intrigued.  Jocelyn responded asking if I was free that Saturday & when I said I was, she sent her address & told me to bring wine.

I went, & we had a great time…multiple times.  Fast forward about 4 months & we started dating.  She was a great girl — funny, smart, loved video games & she could cook her ass off.  I met her parents when they came to NYC from Rhode Island & she seemed to come from a good background.  Her father was loaded & he actually offered me a job after dinner.  I told him I would think about it.  Keep this in mind.  It’s somewhat important.

My birthday was nearby & Jocelyn had come up to the job to see Em & they, along with another female coworker went to lunch.  When they came back, the other coworker stopped by my cubicle telling me how much she liked Jocelyn & somewhere in the conversation, I found out that her father owned the shop downtown where I had gotten fitted for a suit before.

Fast forward to my birthday — Jocelyn, Em, myself & the other coworker (I forget her name) had all went to Dave & Buster’s in the city.  They had each gotten me gifts.  The coworker got me a dress shirt from her father’s shop & Jocelyn had gotten me a tie (I collect ties…it’s weird) to match, cufflinks, a tie clip & dress shoes.  We all ate, drank, played a few games & went home.

These birthday items sat in the closet for quite some time until around Jocelyn’s parents’ anniversary dinner.  They had arrived in NYC & we were to meet them in the city.  I was ironing my clothes waiting for Jocelyn to get out of the shower.  When she was out, I stepped in, showered & as I was coming out, I smelled something burning.  I rushed out of the bathroom to find the dress shirt on fire, even though I clearly remember unplugging the iron.  As I’m in the kitchen dousing the shirt in water, Jocelyn runs into the bathroom & locks the door, immediately followed by numerous toilet flushes.

Confused as fuck, I knock on the door several times asking if she’s ok & for her to open the door.  After a few moments of silence, she opens the door & throws my jeans at me.  My wallet falls out of the pocket & I notice it was empty.  This crazy bitch flushed EVERYTHING, including the money order for my rent, my cash & my paycheck…down the fucking toilet.  We argued & for whatever reason, I decided we were still going to dinner.  Partly because I now had no fucking money & hadn’t went food shopping yet.

At dinner we sat at opposite ends of the table & her father asked what the beef was about.  When I explained he sighed & wrote me a check for $3,000 to cover what I lost.  Even though I had a taste of her crazy side & the whole shit started because she swore I was fucking the girl that got me the shirt & how disrespectful it was of me to want to wear it to her parents’ dinner (even though SHE GAVE her my shirt size AND helped her pick the shit out, therefore being a gotdamn accomplice to the gift…)…we didn’t break up.

Sometime after, she accused me yet again of fucking some girl I didn’t even really know & we broke up.  I decided the argument was stupid as shit, so I invited her to spend the night so we could talk.  I cooked, she brought alcohol…we hashed our shit out, watched a movie & fell asleep on the couch.

I woke up & she was cleaning the kitchen.  She kissed me “good morning”, I made myself a bowl of cereal & sat down at the table to watch some TV.  The door buzzed so I went downstairs — my package from Amazon had arrived.  I came back up & sat back at the table.  There was an extremely strong smell of bleach but I didn’t think shit of it because well, she was cleaning.

The moment I grabbed a spoon full of cereal to dump into my mouth, she smacked the spoon from my hand & the bowl from the table.  I lost my shit asking what the fuck her problem was, & that’s when she told me she poured bleach in my cereal.  There was no way in fuck she was serious, right?  I picked the bowl up & sure enough…it smelled like bleach.  At this point, I was so furious, the only thing I could do was to tell her to gather her shit & get the fuck out.  It was over.

But wait.  There’s more…

Logic vs. Typical Thought

The thought process between men & women are highly different, obviously.  Men are typically “do’ers” while women take pride in being “thinkers”.  The lines are kinda blurred because, well…both of these aspects are generally 50/50.  Neither sex is actually smarter than the other & each individual operates differently.  This is common sense, no?  Of course it isn’t.  I can’t stress enough how much of a believer I am in logic/common sense.  It’s probably the most important characteristic ever because, well, if most of us used this tool wisely, certain parts of life would not only make more sense but would also operate much more smoothly.

Let’s take a look at three instances where common sense/logic should overcome the typical thought process…

Let’s say you meet a girl (or guy, whichever applies).  You exchange numbers & begin to talk/text a great deal.  You enjoy their conversation but realize you’re not the only guy (or girl) that they interact with.  There are two ways your mind could travel:

Typical thought: she/he is a ho.  They’re tryina fuck with everyone of the opposite sex they speak with & I have to compete with everyone for their attention but I won’t because I’m the most important person in the world.

Logic/common sense: people have/make friends out of different situations.  It’s rude to typecast a person based off of what I think versus what I know & I probably shouldn’t let my emotions get the best of me.

Make sense?  It should.  People interact with other people daily.  One’s intentions don’t fit everyone’s.  For instance, when you go to the bank, do you immediately think of robbing it?  I’m sure some do, but not everyone does.  Same goes with people.  If you’re talking to someone & your situation is cozy, that doesn’t necessarily mean they speak to everyone with the same manner.  Most people just have a habit of negative thinking & it spoils possibilities.  If you’re that curious, try asking.  Next scenario.

Kim has been hurt by two Aquarius men in her life.  They were bad relationships & she has vowed to never date Aquarius men again.

Typical thought: a person’s sign determines what type of person they are…because every person from every sign is the same.  #TaurusSeason

Logic/common sense: I shouldn’t even have to explain this one.  Everyone’s different, yet we all mostly have common characteristics.

People’s actions, thoughts & demeanor generally are a makeup of various things…usually spanning from how they were raised to their personal experiences.  I’m a Virgo, for instance.  People generally don’t know this unless I tell them because I have different characteristics that make up my personality.  I also share characteristics of my parents, whom neither are Virgos but are smart people who pushed me & my brother hard & made us look at life from more than one angle.

In other words, I could have been born a Cancer & still have the same exact characteristics I have now.  Astrological sign doesn’t mean shit.  I got into a debate earlier with a friend of mine who said “I’m bipolar, it’s the Gemini in me” & it’s sad that people think this way.  I explained to her, from my point of view, that she’s “bipolar” because she acts before she thinks & when things don’t go how she expects, she flies off the handle.  She then proceeded to tell me I think like that “because I’m a Virgo”, which is absolutely retarded because I’ve known her for years & am basing what I said off of me watching how she takes things without thinking first.  That would mean that everyone who jumps the gun is a Gemini.  Let that sink in for a second.

Last scenario.

Michelle wears low cut shirts to show off her huge tits.  Men cat-call or stare at her chest often & it makes her uncomfortable.  However, if you look at her Instagram photos, she has provocative pics everywhere.

Typical thought: men are dogs.  All they want to do is fuck.

Logic/common sense: if you don’t want the attention, stop dressing like you want the attention.

I mean, seriously.  I’ve heard a lot of women say they show off their assets to make other women jealous or because they like the attention.  So…you want the attention, but you don’t want the attention…?  Or is it that you only want the attention of someone you find attractive?  Well, that’s not exactly how it works.  You see, you’re trying to use sexual prowess mixed with the fact that most men think with their dicks.  Bad move.

If you throw a piece of steak in the middle of a pack of wolves, what the fuck do you think will happen?  Here’s a thought: be proactive to your emotions.  If you want an attractive guy to notice you, try talking to him.  Your vocal cords work the same as ours.  Why the fuck do we have to do all of the talking?  Having your tits out hoping 1 guy out of 500 notices is absolutely retarded.  If you don’t want the attention, wear unflattering jeans & an extra large T-shirt.  See how many men hit on you then.

My point is, I wish more people used logic/common sense than the seemingly small pool of us that do.  I have faith in humans but typically everyone wants to fit in with specific groups so they adopt their ways of thinking & lifestyles.  I don’t think there will ever be a time where the general population thinks for themselves again.

As a free thinker, this saddens me.

– Hype (@_maliante)

The After Effect

I know…usually I’m drunk ranting or looking at things from a different perspective, but today I felt like writing a bit.  Shit happens.  I actually should be writing my book but I had a conversation with someone & my mind went elsewhere instead of listening to their bullshit problems.  Enjoy.

I laid there, emotionless, staring at the ceiling as she slithered out of bed and searched for her underwear.  I looked over at her briefly as she grabbed them from the floor and slid them up her long silky legs.  I couldn’t help but wonder what I was doing here.  Scratch that.  I knew exactly why I was here, obviously, but to what result?  She’s 41, married with two kids and her relationship with her husband is more of a task than a union.  I’m barely 27 and should be sneaking out of a 20-something year old college girl’s bed as she sleeps in a drunken stupor.  Somehow I’m okay where I am, but then again, I’m not.  We’ve done this numerous times but tonight feels different.

“Are you alright?” she asks, pulling my t-shirt over her head.

“Yeah, just thinking…” I replied, adjusting the pillows behind my head.

In my mind, I was taken back to the day we met.  She was on the treadmill at the gym in my neighborhood, a completely different side of the city than the one housing the family in the photos of this bedroom.  I couldn’t help but notice the way her yoga shorts hugged her curves, especially with her ass sticking out like a tourist’s hand attempting to hail a cab.  I’ve seen multiple guys approach her only to turn and walk away with their heads hanging.  She had approached me and asked me to spot her while she used the leg press, which seemed awkward, but I agreed.  A wave of lust consumed me as I firmly held her hips and watched them in motion as she exhaled deeply with every rep, but I kept my composure.  I’m an average built guy…there are many muscleheads in this building.  Why me and not them?

During our workout, which was mostly her doing numerous exercises and my following her around like a lost puppy, conversation flowed and she asked if I wanted to try a new juice bar she had heard of.  I agreed but wasn’t aware that she meant uptown, which was completely out of my way, but fuck it.  After replenishing our energy, she informed me that she lived close by and I could shower at her place if I wanted — a gesture of gratitude for skipping my plans and accompanying her 30 minutes away.  I reluctantly agreed and we walked about two blocks to her brownstone.

She told me I could shower first as she’d wind up using all the hot water and asked if I wanted a sandwich for after.  I nodded and made my way upstairs to the door she had directed me to.  I hopped in the shower and began to zone out, letting the steam and water pressure lift the fatigue of the day’s activities.  That’s when I heard the shower door open behind me.  I turned, looking over my shoulder as she stepped in and traced her fingers down my back.

We fucked in the shower — an aggressive game of body tennis where I served her and she returned every stroke.  I could tell she hadn’t been fucked in some time, as her body tightened and responded as if she needed what I was giving her.  We then moved into the adjoining bedroom, still wet, removing all of the sheets and unnecessary adornments from the top.  She came twice more and I matched my first from beforehand.  As we laid panting in our mixture of shower puddle and sweat, I glanced at the wall, to which the professional photo of her and her family stared me right in the face.

“You’re not gonna get all weird on me about that, are you?” she asked, still attempting to catch her breath.  The ‘oh shit’ feeling came over me and I began to feel like a prick…more because I knew how it felt to be cheated on than because I didn’t even bother inquiring her relationship status at all today.  She gave me a brief rundown of their fucked up marriage — how she knew he had a girlfriend in Jersey who may possibly be pregnant…the whole nine.  Since this was recent findings, he had apparently agreed to let her have her fun without asking questions until they were ready to settle one way or another.  So, here I am, obviously.

“What are you thinking about?” she continued, sliding back into bed and laying her head on my chest.

“Things, I guess.  It’s been six months now and I could help but wonder how everything’s gonna play out.”

“Ah…” she exclaimed, running her fingers along my abs.  “You’re in the ‘after effect’…”