Monday, April 5, 2010

Sex Ploytation Part 36

Part 36

I'm now moving into the chapter called Whore-Ror Stories

When all of us were hanging out together at this nightclub, there was this squirrelly little
guy who used to come around. He was a really nice guy, so everybody liked him, but he
was a total nerd. Dave was his name. He used to wear out of-date clothes, and his hair
was always messed up, and he was so shy he could barely even say hi to a girl. Once in a
while we'd try to get a girl to dance with him, but they'd always just laugh. Actually, they
were pretty mean. They'd tease him, rub their tits against him, stuff like that. As I said,
Dave was a nice guy, and I think he used to get very lonely and frustrated.
Then, out of the blue, he inherited over half a million dollars, and I swear, within a week,
this guy had every beautiful woman in the place drooling over him, asking him to dance,
giving him their phone numbers. They were just whores there's no other word for it. And
poor Dave, he didn't get it. He didn't realize that all they cared about was getting their
hands on his cash. He was like a wounded fish in a sea full of sharks. About six months
later, he married one of these bimbos. We tried to warn him, but it was the first time in
his life any woman had really paid any attention to him, so he bit.
She made him buy a Mercedes, and build her a house, and as soon as it was finished, she
divorced him and cleaned him out. It's sad what women can get away with in this society,
they should all be arrested for theft.

I was at a party and I noticed a woman across the room trying to catch my eye, so I
smiled at her and she came over. We were talking for a little while, really hitting it off, so
much so that I was feeling one of those weird connections that you so rarely get when
you're in sync with somebody, like all of a sudden there's no one else in the room. And I
could see that she was feeling it, too. She asked me what I did, and I told her, and then
she asked me where I lived. I told her I was living in a really nice apartment complex
about a mile away. She looked at me with this expression of total disgust and said, "You
rent?". Then she turned her back on me and walked away.

This friend of mine was having no luck meeting women. He's a nice-looking guy, but as
soon as they found out he wasn't rolling in cash, they'd be gone. So he decided to try the
personal ads. He wanted to be very honest and exact about his requirements-for example,
he's not overly hung up on looks, but he's extremely athletic, so he was looking for a
woman who really enjoys working out. The responses came-I'm beautiful, I'm in great
shape, etc. But when he met them, not only were they physically unappealing, but 30 or
40 pounds overweight, and what qualified them as "being athletic" was that they walked
two blocks to work every day. He got so frustrated and so discouraged, he finally asked
one of them, "Why did you say you were beautiful and in shape?" And she told him, "Oh,
because that's what men want to hear."