Analyzing guys’ text messages is as common of a hobby among local cunterati as it’s pointless. I seriously doubt that much thought was put into those messages by the guys who write them. And, the authors of those messages are probably not deepest thinker out there anyway So, do yourself a favor, and do something better with your time. Maybe… there is a sale at Sephora today?
Sixtagram – a special social photo sharing media platform for average-looking-at-best girls with inflated ego and sense of entitlement, aka the Marina 6’s.
“You throw a ball like a girl” – said a father playfully to his little son, while trying to teach him the ways of baseball.
A lady in her sexual prime who was hanging out with the dog in the same area approached the guy and confronted him – “You shouldn’t be telling that to you son, as it suggests that girls are somehow less capable”
The father became noticeably aggravated and then responded in a typical SF-don’t-tell-me-how-to-live-my-life way: “Why don’t you focus on raising your children the way you want, and I will focus on mine is that alright with you?” His obvious New York accent added to the impact and the force of his words.
The lady just walked away without saying a word. I bet she was at a least a little surprised by the guy’s standing his ground, in this ultra-betafied-yes-maam-no-maam town.
Today, while playing tennis in the Marina, I had the pleasure of eavesdropping on a conversation between two, obviously “local” guys who were playing next to me. I found their conversation to be refreshing real, considering how blah every other white guy in a baseball cap usually sounds in da ‘hood. They were actually making fun of the neighborhood and talking shit about their mutual friends.
At one point, one of them told the other that yesterday he saw a typical marina girl at the downtown 24 hour fitness do perfect weight curls for nearly 30 minutes, while maintaining a perfect posture. He sounded impressed, while the other guy just laughed in response. I couldn’t tell if the admiration for that girl’s ability was real or sarcastic.
My curiosity got the best of me, and I couldn’t resist the temptation to asked him whether he was really admiring that girl’s abilities or he was making fun of her, and I was just not getting it. He answered: “Dude, that’s not exactly a turn-on. I would work out with her, but I wouldn’t wanna touch her. It’s like touching a dude.”
This was very encouraging for me to hear and reassured me once again that some others see what I see, and I am not totally losing my mind.
My experience in the Marina today has confirmed the local cunt energy yet again through a very routine encounter. Let me ask you – when was the last time a girl asked you, a guy, what time it was? Let alone in the Marina?! Aren’t they too cool to ask anyone for anything, at least when they are completely sober early afternoon?
Anyway, I sit and read at the Roastery on Union. Your typical angry-looking, cunt-face in her mid/late 20’s comes in like she owns the place, sits down at the table next to me and a few minutes later says “Do you have the time?”
Since there were a few other people at the shop I wasn’t sure if she was asking me, but I assumed she did, since I had a fairly big watch on my wrist. I then looked at my watch, looked up and directly at her and said “It’s 3:25”.
Not only didn’t she say “thanks”, but she did not even look up to acknowledge my response. She continued looking down into her purse while seemingly trying to find something in there (let me take two wild guesses – she was looking for her i-phone or a chopstick). It’s as if I was some kind of automated service responding to people’s inquiries and not a human being to her. Way to go…