So I'm watching porn (as I am wont to do), and this jackass can't get it up for Taylor Rain. Now, not only is she the hottest woman in porn, but she's eating his ass (like it was puppy chow as Chris Rock would say), and this zero can't get a rod.
Now I understand that there's a certain element of performance anxiety involved (I used to be unable to take a piss in public bathrooms because I was so was so worried about someone seeing my tiny cock that I couldn't get things flowing), but looking at a picture of Taylor Rain's left pinky toe gives me wood; I think it's safe to say that I'd blow a load long before her tongue got to my asshole.
The point is this: beautiful women, like most other commodities, are not properly distributed. (If you just clicked your tongue in disgust, roll back a few entries for my take on feminism. All people are commodities.) There is one tiny segment of the male population, composed of porn stars, Tommy Lee, and Jude Law, that gets to fuck as many of the top five percent of the female population as they can before dying of exhaustion, while the rest of us are stuck with the bottom fifty percent.
But wait, you say, that math doesn't work out. The fucked up thing is that all women within remote striking distance of these elite males spend all their time pining, primping, and vomiting in the hopes that someday they might get their shot. This essentially takes them off the market as far as the average XY is concerned. It's the same phenomenon that allows the republican party to stay in power. 27 percent of Americans think they are now or will soon be in the top 1 percent of income earners, so of course they oppose taxing the ultra-rich to send their own fucking kids to college. By the same logic, why should Julie down the street waste her time on me when she and fifty million other women are sure that they will soon be married to Brad Pitt?
I'm sure women feel the same way about men, that so many of us waste time chasing high end tail that we're completely missing the moist-pantied girls next door who would give us the fuck of our lives if only we could remember their names.
But fear not, plain Janes and Johns, I have a solution. Well actually, John Nash had it first. Here it is:
Settle.
That's it; Settle.
Dante needs to settle for Veronica. Estella needs to settle for Pip. Every woman in Vegas needs to settle for Jon Favreau.
We'll all get laid. We'll all be happy. There will be no more eating disorders, plastic surgery, or rape. Marxism isn't just about money; we need an equal distribution of everything.
Come on ladies, help me save the world.
Now I understand that there's a certain element of performance anxiety involved (I used to be unable to take a piss in public bathrooms because I was so was so worried about someone seeing my tiny cock that I couldn't get things flowing), but looking at a picture of Taylor Rain's left pinky toe gives me wood; I think it's safe to say that I'd blow a load long before her tongue got to my asshole.
The point is this: beautiful women, like most other commodities, are not properly distributed. (If you just clicked your tongue in disgust, roll back a few entries for my take on feminism. All people are commodities.) There is one tiny segment of the male population, composed of porn stars, Tommy Lee, and Jude Law, that gets to fuck as many of the top five percent of the female population as they can before dying of exhaustion, while the rest of us are stuck with the bottom fifty percent.
But wait, you say, that math doesn't work out. The fucked up thing is that all women within remote striking distance of these elite males spend all their time pining, primping, and vomiting in the hopes that someday they might get their shot. This essentially takes them off the market as far as the average XY is concerned. It's the same phenomenon that allows the republican party to stay in power. 27 percent of Americans think they are now or will soon be in the top 1 percent of income earners, so of course they oppose taxing the ultra-rich to send their own fucking kids to college. By the same logic, why should Julie down the street waste her time on me when she and fifty million other women are sure that they will soon be married to Brad Pitt?
I'm sure women feel the same way about men, that so many of us waste time chasing high end tail that we're completely missing the moist-pantied girls next door who would give us the fuck of our lives if only we could remember their names.
But fear not, plain Janes and Johns, I have a solution. Well actually, John Nash had it first. Here it is:
Settle.
That's it; Settle.
Dante needs to settle for Veronica. Estella needs to settle for Pip. Every woman in Vegas needs to settle for Jon Favreau.
We'll all get laid. We'll all be happy. There will be no more eating disorders, plastic surgery, or rape. Marxism isn't just about money; we need an equal distribution of everything.
Come on ladies, help me save the world.