I am too fucken nice. And, as any husband will tell you, if you are too fucken nice then the wife will sense blood in the water and proceed to goose-step lock-step march all over your graven craven ballsack and dominate you to halfway around the Cape of Good Cock and back. They will take your meek & weak twine-meat niceness as far as they fucking can, then after that they will get medieval and giddily run a half-fucking-marathon all up and down your pallid indecisive groinmeat. Eg, my wife recently invited her female friend to come and live with us. Of course I said no. Are you shitting me? What the fuck? That means I’ll have to put my goddamn pants on. She ignored me and let the friend come and live with us anyway. “Sorry” she says, meanwhile not sorry at all, get fucked faget, deal with it. So what if it was "only for a few weeks until she finds a new place." I think I said no? Her parents live right here in the same city, she can fucken stay with them. 3 days of murderous stony-faced silence later and wife had changed her plan. Perhaps she sensed they’d both wind up getting hiffed over the fucking 5th storey balcony.
I know a French bloke married to a Japanese woman. The guy is insufferably meek, he mumbles, you can’t hear a single fucking thing he says, sorry, what was that, ffs, FFA, I basically gave up even trying with the dude. His wife has zero respect for his gonad-mouthed gallic garble and barks at him, cutting him off, telling him what to order off menus etc. Total emasculation. She’s sensed his zero ignition spark and gone Bonneville Salt Flats with the poor fucker. He just takes it. I want to tell him, one day, just slowly turn around at her and abruptly ROAR LIKE FUCK at her. She will probably respect you for it.
This brings me to another of my brilliant theories. Women don’t actually “love” men. What they think they “love” is how the man comports himself around other men. They are drawn to the confidence and within it seek a sort of solace. Not “love”, just a sort of sooky deluded security. eg, irrespective of what I look like, if I’m in a group of men and comport myself with garrulous good cheer and sidle out corrosively grandiose witticisms and the other men think I’m just the cats pajamas, the woman will be drawn to me, to the confidence, and my “status” within the group. Conversely, if I just sit there while the other men go all alpha and I chime in with some maladroit clangers, all ignored by the alphas, it won’t matter if I look like George Clooney rendered in oil pastels at sunset in downtown fucking Versailles, the woman will think I’m a klutz and give no fucks. “The guys think he’s a dickhed therefore my beehive of swirling gash vipers is in slumber mode."
The Doc (psychiatry) bossman at work has mentioned the problems he has with a whole office full of just Japanese women. It wont happen immediately but, within about 3 months, it always turns into some Lord of the Flies shit. One bitch has to be Queen Bee. Then she sides with bitch cohorts and they pick off the weakest petal and prey on them. It has the Doc flummoxed. Would this happen in an office full of just men? Get fucked, we just want to be pals and yak about the sports results. In interviews, even though he is a psychiatrist, he just cannot pick which women will start this shit further down the line. But start it they always do. Always. He is constantly hiring new potential prey/black widows. I tjhink it lies dormant in all of them. Give them an inkling of dominance and they will find some fucker to manifest their murderous seethe upon.
