Meet girl

People tend to have a sort of series of concentric rings when they think about the various relationships they have with others in their life, and it spans a wide variety of possibilities.

As weird as it might be, you could surely imagine having a talk about nearly any topic with probably almost anyone you know, with some obvious exclusions in terms of topic, but saying things is different than doing things.

Even if at first you might not imagine it being possible, I'm sure in a certain context you can imagine having a discussion about sex with your mom (not like that - I mean, discussing the topic of sex with the person you identify as your mother; I mean, if you want to discuss the Oedipal thing, that's cool too, but that's not what I was implying).

But then there's a line of action. Physical stuff.

There's people you see where it's simply so far off your radar of probability in terms of physical action that they could literally tell you they wanted to fuck you in the closet like this instant and you'd ever consider taking them up on the offer, simply for reasons that you just don't see them that way.

Maybe you draw this line at male or female characteristics. Maybe it's more than that, and you include body-type, or a mixture of the two where it's some kind of algorithm of apparent gender plus body type, or some confusing blitz of attraction that you can't really make sense of (I think that's called "pansexual," but I'm not the best at these terms).

Either way, the myth is that you're the one drawing that line. You never even had control of the pencil (or paintbrush, or whatever - don't miss the point of the metaphor by getting bogged down in details, man).

It's just some bizarre conglomeration of social, neurochemical, pheremonic, and contextual factors that it would take the greatest quantum computer ever built to even begin to make sense of in terms of actionable data in any given lived situation we might experience.

>series of concentric rings

I mean, sexual attraction is only one region in that vast series of rings.

Surely, everyone knows that sex isn't the most important thing in the universe.

Anyone who's gotten laid in the past week, amirite? Just sayin'.

I mean, it's just such a basic thing that we've gone and overcomplicated - which seems to be what humans are best at doing, if the combination of written and oral history that exists as the sum-total of human production is any litmus test - and we never stop and think about what we're actually talking about.

I'm assuming that at any given moment, you want to have sex with approximately 40% of the planet.

This might be divided among any number of permutations or devoted to a single stratum of the population, and you have no control over how that breaks down or what you feel about anyone you see. You just take notes and try to determine patterns.

I've been around long enough to know what mine are, but I also acknowledge the possibility that they might change. I don't see how that could happen, but then again I guess that's why people feel so certain about their sexual orientations when they get in arguments about them. I mean, for all I know, the Chad I'm trying to convince of the equality of women only resents them because they want a dick in their ass, and women can't give them one unless they get an expensive strap-on (have you priced those things? You'd really have to want a dick in your ass from someone who doesn't already have one to shell out for that, just sayin'...).

Point is, like, of those 40%, there's a massive lottery you enter in terms of who is likely to be receptive to your sexual advances - and that's just in terms of the random things about attraction that we can't really fully determine, nevermind the social factors.

you sound like you want her back bro, just go for it

I mean, let's say a man made an open sexual advancement toward you in public, and you considered yourself a cis-het-male?

This the locker-room talk that should be happening, by the way - because like, I never saw that towel-slapping, ass-smacking shit as anything but literally gay.

Maybe I'm homophobic, though.

It's not often (by which I mean it's literally probably been fewer than five times in my life) that it happens, but if a gay dude expresses interest in me, I honestly am flattered, because it's just literally a compliment.

I mean, does it make me gay to be flattered by a guy telling me he thinks I'm attractive?

A lot of folks would say "yes, you fag."

And in this ad-hoc and poorly defined scenario of "open sexual advancement... in public" (because, like, that's so subjective it's almost useless, but yet we all know what I'm talking about in terms of feeling like someone has just legitimately come on to you (unless you literally don't, in which case you probably still understand the abstract or even purely academic sense of the concept, however you construct it)), it's them you tend to hear shouting a little louder than the happy folks who don't really give a fuck what you do as long as it's consensual.

I mean, they're dangerous. They get angry at your lack of aggression against homosexuality, and then display aggression toward you because you didn't seem to oppose it enough, which means that now you're forced to either claim some sort of absurd allegiance with either homos or heteros.

Attached: wtf_guy.jpg (746x449, 26K)

You dodged a bullet. A name like that can only be bestowed upon a child who was born to hardcore substance abusers. High likelihood she spent a good chunk of her childhood in foster care.

>either homos or heteros.

But... I mean... like... I didn't choose to be a fucking puss-hound.

If I did, I sure don't remember when.

When I was 10, my friend found a transvestite porn-mag (it was more of a pamphlet; they used to sell porn next to newspapers in automated dispensary machines until like the mid-nineties; shit was so cash) in the middle of our elementary-school field.

I was so unsettled by what I assumed was a "normal" clitoris of 3.5 inches.

I mean, I have so many issues with why I thought anything was wrong with what I was looking at.

Nothing, really. I mean, there are a bunch of people born with enlarged clitori that rival lengths of penises.

But the numbers didn't add up, and I had spent a lot of time studying the crotches of the people I had determined as female, and I couldn't figure out where the fuck they'd have to be packing those giant clits.

It just made me feel better when I found out that the average vulva/clit combo didn't look like that.

I mean, does that make me a bad person?

And I assume a gay dude would probably feel the opposite about it, and wish for an even bigger clit (which, developmentally speaking, is sort of all a dick is), and I have to ask: does that make them a bad person?

I mean, I don't see why either of us could be bad people for either of those dispositions, unless we treated each other badly.

Don't know why any of us have any reason to, though.

But if you actually chose your sexual orientation, I have to admit I'm curious in terms of how that works.

Lol; you're such a dick, but yet what you're saying resonates with the cruel and harsh realities of 2019 America. You should try stand-up.

I've been there myself dude, semi-funny one from a few days ago:
>Talking to girl about her art
>She draws on paper then scans it digitally and uploads it to some site
>The images she uploads are somehow perfect digital-looking scans, I'm surprised, let's find out how she did that
"Oh nice, how did you scan those drawings in?"
her: "With a scanner"

cue slightly awkward silence and me trying to hold back laughter at how ridiculous that response is. Asked again and finally found out she photoshops them to make them cleaner looking.

Some people say it's down to stupid questions and such but we all ask stupid shit to each other CONSTANTLY, it's up to the listener to understand wtf we are trying to ask

Start with this opener: everybody hurts because they don't get to choose what hurts them.

I mean, it's pretty funny.

I mean, maybe it's a little early in the year to ask this, but isn't it cold?

The heart?

Because fuck mine for thinking I ever meant anything to you, you know? Like, I'm just basically a giant bother who you have to use to get what you want, but you see like one of those growths that you find unsightly but you know you just have to put up with until you get what you want.

You want me to die, probably.

It's pretty impressive how fucking callous you are, I gotta admit. And I sure don't know what the fuck I'm still alive for.

I'm so easy to take care of, after all: just ply me with whiskey and pot, and I leave you alone to your happy little life with your ghetto ass boyfriend, and I sleep for days without getting in your way.

I hope it's you who finds my corpse one day.

I know you won't cry.

It's really a matter of figuring out what assets are owed to whom and how much you can make off of my body.

I don't blame you.

Because you didn't smile. If you'd have smiled she would laugh and everything could be fine.

Like that? You like smiles? You think they fix everything?

Attached: thatshighpraise.jpg (580x320, 73K)

I guess it's my own fault, though, thinking that how you treat someone else matters in terms of how you're treated.

You can pour all the sugar down the drain, and the drain isn't ever going to thank you, and you're just stupid for doing it.

Sometimes, you spend your life rescuing the princess, and she just spits in your face and asks why it took so long.

Bad luck, I guess.

There's no good answer.

Conversation is just making shit up as you go. “Small talk” is joint pointless blather about nothing.

What do you want, though - gratitude? For doing something you don't know how not to do?

You obviously don't deserve it.

It's not like you're noble or anything; you're just doing what you've been programmed to, so it's not like you can really claim credit for the hardships you went through while doing it.

She'll spit in your face, ask why it took so long, and then she'll get kidnapped by Bowser or whatever, and that's just your stupid life, because you don't really know how to make sense of it unless you're trying to help someone.

And you have no idea how to help yourself.

Is this anywhere near relatable to anyone else out there?

I mean, that's pretty cynical.

I'm not saying you're wrong, but I am saying that what you're implying is that the matters we discuss are without merit, for the most part, which makes me wonder what you think is important.

Suppose you're right, though, and what we say is relatively meaningless compared to who we might appear as in each others' lives? So what then? Do we just keep talking nonsense or do we ever actually have a discussion about what's important to us?

And is what's important to us now at all important to us in terms of our life's trajectory?

Is that a dumb question?

I really don't know.

this
Like what did you expect.

>the matters we discuss are without merit

That's what small talk is; shit that doesn't matter.

You can have a conversation about shit that does matter, but when you're asking someone about his or her name, that doesn't really matter.

Not OP, but like... literally any better answer than "my mom gave it to me when I was born."

I mean, if you want to say "fuck off," you can say that. Just be honest and tell them to go fuck off.

>can't handle sarcasm
That's a pretty big character flaw.

How do names not matter? It's what you're fucking called by the people who raised you, for fuck's sake.

Maybe in some deep existential sense, what you're called doesn't have any bearing on who you are, but that's at least as important of a conversation as what your name means.

How is this debatable?

Oh, because sarcasm is always the best response to things.

Because we're always so witty when we're lying about stuff.

Great character flaw to point out, being honest.

>meet guy on Tinder
>he wants to have a conversation entirely in GIFs
>this can't be real, I don't know how to do this
>ask another male friend if this is normal and I'm just out of touch
>friend: "Are you talking to actual twelve-year-olds?"

Conclusion: People are weird as fuck, more at eleven

Ignoring subtext is either autism or voluntary ignorance. So just Bee urself and maybe someone will translate society for you.

That's not at all what OP was talking about, but who cares? Let's just talk about whatever we want to. I personally don't know why the fuck I bother to wake up.

>Bee urself

Oh, that's so kyoot.

Like, it's some reference to some animated feature where the characters wind up being rewarded for their honest presentation of self.

What a great story.

Love to fucking see it.

Honestly, I don't know what I would do without her.

Also, honestly I don't know what to do with her, though.

I'm sort of in a bind.

Why are we like this, user?

>women are basically sex robots which require a specific sentences spoken to it to activate it
and here I thought you were making sense for a secod.

Yeah, that seems like crazy-talk... but just in case, do you happen to know any of these specific sentences, lol?

I mean, I've tried actually caring, and it's just no good - you get hurt, and bad, when they only want you for one thing or another and they never intended to have sex with you, but you think they might have wanted to for however long, and then you just sort of look dumb.

It would really be quite helpful if women would let you know if they will ever be receptive to your advances with certain key phrases.

I mean, I'm not crazy, but that sounds particularly efficient, because I'm basically autistic and have no idea when I'm dealing with someone who might ever have sex with me, so I spend most of my time trying to start things with people who will only ever see me as some sort of fucked up dad, when I'm trying to be more than that, but I'm like pretty deep into the former, and I have no idea how to get out of it.

It's probably not a problem that many people have, but it is definitely a problem, and being really clear in one's communication would be helpful in resolving it, but like, you can't really tell someone that you're doing something in the hopes of sexual favors without seeming like a real asshole, so you just sort of don't say anything and hope that they get the idea after a while, but that only leads you to a point where you're being led around by your dick, and you'll never be happy, but you see them making other people happy and it sort of drives you mad, but they just don't see you that way and there's nothing you can really do about it but move on, but like everyone you want to bang is sort of that way, so you're in this endless spiral of unfulfillment, and it's pretty terrible because even if you had enough money to just get a hooker it's still illegal and the last thing you need is a prostitution charge to bolster the claims that have been made against you.

Thank you for attending my TED talk.

Did you know you can reheat most Del Taco meals in a conventional oven at 350 for less than 10 minutes? Try it the next time you lose your appetite. #themoreyouknow

t. a bad person.

>How did you get that name?
She answered your damn question.

>I can talk to dudes fine why are women aliens?

How many times have you said to a dude "that's a cool name, how did you get it?"

>They never intended to have sex with you

They're usually pretty clear when they do. Don't blame them, it's your social skills.
>It would be helpful if they let you know they'd be ok with your advances
They do. All the time. With key phrases, even.

>I'm autistic

There it is. You can learn how to pick up on things manually user. There is therapy for that. But also understand people like people who they can really identify with. That's not easy when you're autistic.
You'd have much better luck with autistic women desu. If you keep chasing club girls you'll strike out every time.

It applies to normies too. I'm a moderately attractive dude and don't have much trouble with women. I probably couldn't get a 6/10 active girl or party girl to save my life, but I could get a 10/10 nerd or academic or office homebody girl.
Archetypes. Play within them.

I mean, if a dude said his name was Clarity, then you sort of have to ask.

But the problem isn't her name; it's that she's probably one of those girls who gets hit on a lot, so she's jaded.

She's probably been asked about it a hundred times by guys (and sometimes girls) who are only interested in the answer insofar as how close it will get them to having sex.

It's basically hot-privilege. She's allowed to be a smarmy and condescending respondent because she's fatigued by the amount of assholes who want to have sex with her.

It's a problem many think they wish to have, but they're probably the same assholes she blows off because she can tell they only want to have sex with her.

What a conundrum.

You have way over read this and filling it with incel garbage and I really feel like you didn't read my whole post, or didn't like the last bit and ignored it.
No you don't have to ask "where did you get that name". And if you do, the answer is "my mom gave it to me." That's like the only answer. "How did your mom choose that name?" Would have been a better question, and even then, it's risky because if she doesn't know or care, you haven't gotten anywhere. Not only that, but it's a unique name. Thousands of men have asked her that. She's probably sick of the question.
I'd have stayed away from her name entirely. Compliment her shoes or something unique on her she probably hasn't heard.

And even then, the entire last half of my post applies. It's socially universal, not just men to women. If you aren't of the same archetype or basic behaviour patterns, you probably aren't going to get on too well. I challenge you for a week to approach men at random the way you approach women and try to make a new best friend. You'll be weird in that situation too.

>it's your social skills

Like, fuck you; my social skills are on point. I'm a polite and courteous motherfucker in every way you could hope for. I mean, other than this ornery outburst that was triggered by your offense to my sensibilities, that is.

>They do. All the time. With key phrases, even.
Oh, do tell. Please elaborate.

>You'd have much better luck with autistic women desu. If you keep chasing club girls you'll strike out every time.

You don't think there are autistic club girls? I mean, the sheer odds would be enough to refute this claim, never mind the fact that people in general are probably more autistic than they let on, but I guess it's easier for you to imagine this world of "club girls" who you probably despise as much as you're attracted to them.

Okay, maybe that was a projection, but that doesn't make it any less true.

>I probably couldn't get a 6/10 active girl or party girl to save my life, but I could get a 10/10 nerd or academic or office homebody girl

I've never found those rating things to be particularly useful. I mean, who's a 10/10? What time is it? Which way is the wind blowing? Like, who you're attracted to isn't always going to be the same thing, from my experience. The people you always want are the people you want because of who they are, not what they look like.

I mean, it's gay that I have to say that.

I don't think you need to zero in on the rating as much as you can just understand I have a much harder time getting an ugly or so so girl outside of my circle and personality type than I do getting a hot girl within my personality type. That was the point.

Your entire post misses the point. Social skills on point? You asked a girl how she got her name. Which would be fine because we all fuck up and sometimes tell the waitress "you too" when she says "enjoy your meal" except that you are thoroughly blaming the fact that conversation went nowhere on her, spiraled into incel speak about it, and you are even now defending that asking a girl how she got her name is a good idea.
Less angry. More listeny. I cannot help you tonight. You have to get over that ego of yours first. This is borderline narcissistic how wrong you think you weren't.

>You have way over read this

"Overread" is one word, but I literally think I actually already explained that I overthink everything, including the present moment in which I find myself, so it's sort of appropriate in that sense, don't you think?

>incel garbage

Woah, now. Let's not go pulling out the big guns until we need to. Literally everyone whose ever wanted to have sex with someone they couldn't is an incel in terms of their ability to have sex with that person.

I mean, that's what it means: involuntarily celibate. And if you can't have sex with someone, then you are celibate to them, and thus everybody is relatively involuntarily celibate to whomever they can't fuck (but want to).

This ain't rocket science. We want what we can't have. There are 10/10 girls (sic) who are relative incels to whomever they have their eyes on that won't have them.

Everybody sufffers in this life.

Some more than others, albeit.

> Compliment her shoes

I mean. Why. She chose her shoes because she knows they complement her, or because that's just how she was feeling when she got dressed to go out.

Do you think it's about finding something unique to comment upon regarding her attire or appearance?

I mean, most people want you to care about what they say more than what they look like, unless they're relying upon what they look like to cover for the fact that they have no idea what to say (I've been in both places; neither are comfortable).

But if you want to engage someone, you can't rely on a physical detail - you actually have to listen to what they say.

And if someone tells you they got their name from their mom, then they're telling you to just go away, and you're probably better off listening to them.

>Why
Because it's a conversation opener. And she probably hasn't heard it. And if she has any interest talking to you shell run with it. It's not about telling her she made a great choice in shoes. It's about not saying something she hasn't heard a billion times before. Also people like being complimented on their clothes and appearance. It's a warm gesture to start.
Like I said her name is unique. Guarantee thousands of creeps trying to bang her has commented on her name. She's over it. You associated yourself to them immediately. She doesn't know you, and people judge quick.
I'm not autistic but I do have another neurodevelopmental disorder that's a cousin of it (and I can understand cues and social nuance with mine but you and I probably share deeply in our opinions if social conduct), and I can agree with you here on how dumb that is. But people don't think like that. They don't give benefit of the doubt. They follow old patterns and apply them to new people. But that's how they are.
Also why I said stick to autists. They're probably more open to your Vulcan ass advances.

>Because it's a conversation opener.

"Nice shoes?" I mean, you're really gonna double-down on this? That's a conversation opener?

I mean, that's what ladies say to each other in the bathroom when they're in there alone and a stranger takes too long washing their hands so there's that obligatory moment of acknowledgement, but they're wearing this kicking pump, and you just go "oh, thank god" and compliment their shoes to fill the gap of time when they're drying their hands (can we just get over the stupid "wave your hands under the electric eye" thing, by the way, for fuck's sake?) and then they finally leave so you can feel relieved from your obligation to interact with them.

I mean, that happens in every restroom, right?

if you just burst out laughing and said "why the fuck did I ask that lmao" you would've resolved the situation. lighten up dude

lol who names a girl Clarity...

>didn't say OH WOW THANKS FOR CLEARING THINGS UP *wink*

>resolved the situation

See now, this is what I'm talking about.

Like, she already decided by the time she told you her mom gave her the name that she wasn't interested.

Maybe some other night, some other place, some other mood. Who knows how the fuck attraction works, for fuck's sake?

Like, there's no "resolving" the situation of "the bitch ain't into you, homie."

Just let go.

I know, easier said than done, now that you've made a whole 4-cabbage post about it, but like, think of it as the process through which you digest this particular loss, and just keep moving toward your next conquest, you sexual predator, you.

I kid, I kid. But you had to stop and think for a second, didn't you, lol?

Dude, last I checked you came asking us. And you're the one who doesn't understand women, and has autism and doesn't get nuance. But ok. Be a bitch. I knew I couldn't help you.