Through my travels, I've always come across the the wonderment that is the Indian girl. She is beautiful, she is smart, she is mystical... she is highly unattainable. Don't get me wrong, this is somewhat true. There are a lot of you mainstream daters that have coveted that brown beauty that helped you pick out a computer at the Best Buy or sat a few rows behind you in engineering class. Except, Indian girls do not generally follow the rules of mainstream dating and you may not know how to approach the problem. Here, I will demystify you in a stepwise fashion.
1. Most Indian girls will not give it up on a first, second, third..... fifteenth date. Wow, what a shocker. Yes, most Indian women were raised in highly unbroken homes in communities that were plagued with a very small divorce rate. Our fathers came from stock that raised them to be honorable to their wives no matter what the circumstances are. This basically means that very few of us have "daddy issues" that you can manipulate into getting her to hop into bed with you. Unless, you are willing to commit, the panties will not be coming off. Sorry.
2. If you make any sexual comments or advances during any of said dates, don't expect you calls to be returned.
3. If you make any comments about your "mommy issues," your past foray into drug/alcohol addiction, or commonly misunderstood elements of Indian culture, don't expect your calls to be returned.
4. This leads to the fact that no, not all Indian women are virgins. We are sexual creatures, but that does not mean that we cannot control our bouts of lonesomeness and end up knocking boots with some creepy guy in a handlebar mustache.
5. We are not submissive or have hopes of an arranged marriage, though the arranged marriage idea is not all that bad of an idea considering how horrid real world dating can be.
6. No, we are not manipulated by our friends and family into not having sex with gentlemen that take us out. That was your fault. See points 1-5 to refresh your memory.
7. As members of a "model minority," we are pressured to do our best to remain in the income bracket that our parents toiled to achieve. If you complain that Indian girls only go for the "rich" and "educated," you clearly are upset because you are not qualified. It is like asking a guy that is used to playing on a Playstation 3 to downgrade to Nintendo. That is not going to happen, for any race including Indian women. Even you have to admit that the pixelation is hard on the eyes.
Monday, July 25, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
I Suck
After seeing a major decline in readership since my blog posts have gone on dark jaunts into a world of negativity, I have finally decided to draw my "I hate the world" campaign of 2011 to a close and return to the self-deprecating humor that I am best known for.
So lately I've been looking in the mirror and wondering why I am only attractive to middle-aged to elderly white men. Ok, I'm not fugly, frumpy, or fat. So what is the deal? Ok, well my hair needs some serious work, but I always thought my wild and untempered locks to be my signature look. Perhaps my nose is a bit, well out there. My skin could be lighter. Hmmmmm...
It never occurred to me that it could be, well, my personality. I know what you are going to say, but you can stop right there. If you call me aggressive or intimidating, you can go ahead and bitch slap yourself right now. The only time I bring out fists of fury are on the following occasions, listed in order of importance:
1. When you are a douche bag guy that thinks he's hot shit for having gone to some lower tier professional school, all the while bragging for never having done the required reading, that does nothing but bang dumb pussy and brags about it;
2. If you are a scum bag intolerant that has taken a liking to saying dumb, uninformed, judgmental racial/religious epithets about other people based solely on appearance;
3. Crossing paths with one of those leeches of society that complains about the cost of life's necessities (rent, food, water, heat) and makes the state foot their exorbitant medical bills because they whine that they cannot afford medical insurance yet they walk around with an iphone, own several video gaming systems with a vast collection of games, and subscribe to a premium cable service.
I feel like the Robin Hood of Morality, Justice, and Whatever Else You Want To Call It whenever I dish out the haterade in these rare but real occasions. I live life with no regrets.
Filled with all this rage, when I signed up for a free online dating site recently, I seriously thought the men on it would read what I have to say and be like "wow, this woman has SPARK! Wabaaaaaam!" They'd magically be turned into some handsome, princely man of a man that'll want to take me out to such upscale restaurants like Portland City Grill or Ruth's Chris. They'd drool over the bilious comments I have to say about the evil in this world while spooning me tiny crumbs of creme brulee and requesting moist dish towels to rub on my head to bring down the redness that my anger often causes. They would... worship me.
But, nothing. Not even a single taker. "What the hell is wrong with ME!?" I thought. Then I took the site's personality quiz and saw the displeasing results:
... I'm boring. I apparently have the personality of a dimwitted spinster that likes to stay-in to darn socks and pray to the Lord Buddha in between taking naps. I'm saddened by this sudden discovery.
All this time, I thought that I was such an exciting, fun, creative, sexual creature. This goes to show that how we view ourselves is not exactly how the world perceives us. Oh well, fuck the world and fuck my life.
So lately I've been looking in the mirror and wondering why I am only attractive to middle-aged to elderly white men. Ok, I'm not fugly, frumpy, or fat. So what is the deal? Ok, well my hair needs some serious work, but I always thought my wild and untempered locks to be my signature look. Perhaps my nose is a bit, well out there. My skin could be lighter. Hmmmmm...
It never occurred to me that it could be, well, my personality. I know what you are going to say, but you can stop right there. If you call me aggressive or intimidating, you can go ahead and bitch slap yourself right now. The only time I bring out fists of fury are on the following occasions, listed in order of importance:
1. When you are a douche bag guy that thinks he's hot shit for having gone to some lower tier professional school, all the while bragging for never having done the required reading, that does nothing but bang dumb pussy and brags about it;
2. If you are a scum bag intolerant that has taken a liking to saying dumb, uninformed, judgmental racial/religious epithets about other people based solely on appearance;
3. Crossing paths with one of those leeches of society that complains about the cost of life's necessities (rent, food, water, heat) and makes the state foot their exorbitant medical bills because they whine that they cannot afford medical insurance yet they walk around with an iphone, own several video gaming systems with a vast collection of games, and subscribe to a premium cable service.
I feel like the Robin Hood of Morality, Justice, and Whatever Else You Want To Call It whenever I dish out the haterade in these rare but real occasions. I live life with no regrets.
Filled with all this rage, when I signed up for a free online dating site recently, I seriously thought the men on it would read what I have to say and be like "wow, this woman has SPARK! Wabaaaaaam!" They'd magically be turned into some handsome, princely man of a man that'll want to take me out to such upscale restaurants like Portland City Grill or Ruth's Chris. They'd drool over the bilious comments I have to say about the evil in this world while spooning me tiny crumbs of creme brulee and requesting moist dish towels to rub on my head to bring down the redness that my anger often causes. They would... worship me.
But, nothing. Not even a single taker. "What the hell is wrong with ME!?" I thought. Then I took the site's personality quiz and saw the displeasing results:
... I'm boring. I apparently have the personality of a dimwitted spinster that likes to stay-in to darn socks and pray to the Lord Buddha in between taking naps. I'm saddened by this sudden discovery.
All this time, I thought that I was such an exciting, fun, creative, sexual creature. This goes to show that how we view ourselves is not exactly how the world perceives us. Oh well, fuck the world and fuck my life.
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