What NOT to Fucking Do When You Just Start Hanging with a Chick

When a guy starts talking about his health — heart issues, balding, colonoscopies — anything that screams he’s becoming fragile, it does nothing to turn on a woman you’ve just met.

I’m sitting there eating my peanut butter when the butthole talk starts, and I’m thinking, Does this guy have any sense of calibration or manners? Like, who talks about their butthole at the dinner table unless they want my foot shoved up it? I shit you not, I’m sitting there eating peanut butter, and he starts going on about the health of his colon.

She’s not your nurse (I’m not your nurse), and she’s not there to play caretaker.

She’s there to get laid and feel like she’s with a strong, stoic man who could slay a dragon if one came flying out of a castle window. Keep the health talk for someone else.

Something your father should’ve told you: “Keep that weak shit to yourself.”

Join a men’s group if you need support, but if you’re sitting across from a woman you’re trying to sleep with and your conversation sounds like that, you might as well take sandpaper to your dick.

I remember this one guy messaging me, saying, “I really want to do a session with you, but I don’t have the money. I’m getting a bonus soon, and I’ll pay you then,” and then he starts going on about his heart issues.

I’m like, “Okay, that’s great.” I tell him he’s fine, and he loses it, insisting he’s not fine at all.

So, I said, “Alright, move along then.” Total drag.

You’ve got a wife, you’re chatting me on the side but you can’t even afford a session with me, and I’m supposed to care? I don’t give a fuck — you don’t pay my bills. You’re not pulling my hair out of the toilet after I’m sick with the flu. This is where more women need to realize they don’t have to play caretaker or feel empathy for grown men. All of their diseases are manifestations of their daily habits of being dumb.

My roommate is 27, a grad student at UCSF, and she’s always going on these pointless dates. “Oh, I’m going on another date…” and I’m just like, “Seriously? You could be working a second job or learning a new language, but instead, you’re wasting time on the schmucks of the Bay Area who probably don’t even have two pennies to rub together. For fuck’s sake.”

I told her, “Just ask them how much money they make, straight up. I guarantee that guy’s pulling in less than you.” Ask him if he’s making payments on his BMW — bet he is. Bet he’s broke. Don’t waste your time with broke guys when you can just as easily sleep with rich ones. They exist too, you know. I’ve got years on this girl, but she hasn’t quite figured it out yet.

And whatever you do, say a hard no to marriage and living with the poor sap. The last thing you want is the mind-numbing boredom of monotonous sex because, for them, sexual play is limited to either the vagina or the asshole. There’s nothing interesting going on in their head — just static. When a man’s horny, it’s like flies buzzing around up there, completely empty.

My ex is a prime example. He got someone pregnant after knowing her for a month, like a complete idiot. Now they have a kid together and don’t even talk — they just email each other. How fucking dumb can you get?