Originally Posted by
Hillbilly Jim
i bet the 2-3 people that finished ahead of you in school could counter your arguments
sfo moron
No. One became a doctor and I suspect, a hooker to pay her way through med school, but the truth was she was paying her way through med school for years. Then she got to med school and changing the pricing policies and this was a much-needed change in policy because, as a two-time john, I received no invoice on either occasion although the sand residual in my ass for a few weeks seemed to be communicating to me that I was stupid. Which I knew already. Don't have sex on the beach but more importantly, why are you on the beach? Whatever your reasons, I'm not interested.
They're bunk.
Her pricing policy prior to charging did not make me respect her, I have to admit. Clearly, I was part of the problem but I'm making up for it by abusing all the whores like your mothers. You can't be nice in this world or people will imagine they're doing you a favour by taking your money / sex / charity off you - I literally swear this is how their demented minds work. You must make people suffer or they will assume you are their mark and they will piss all over you because that's what humans do with their marks.
She was free in high school and very expensive at university. Is this wrong or right? Who knows in a world of hookers and
johns that can only respect whores.
___________________
Another became a romantic and had this torrid love affair with this girl that went for a decade or something. It was pretty amazing but we were only on small talk terms by then, so I could never get the goss except via the goss vine; and because the goss line-up was aware that I was not a regular feature at the water cooler, I always felt I was getting the sanitized version. But the gist of it was he was a champion and a stand-up chap with a dangerously self-harmful streak of nobility and stoic exploitability in him and no acid-damaged girl will ever be able to respect that.
Will they?
You know what the problem here for Rhianna is? She's fucked, as in she got her face owned, which is to say she's damned if she does and damned if she doesn't because if she walks away
all the pain and suffering and madness was for fucking nothing.
And so she hopes...if they live happily ever after, it'll have been worth it. Economically-speaking, this is generally not considered sound; to sink costs into retrieving sunk costs.
She's trying to get out of an emotional sink-hole with a win and you can't do that; you
can save your life or the remnants of it and
that is it. Try to pull a rabbit of the hat and...would you look at this faggot.
Someone's gonna kill him. Rhianna's a cool girl.
By the point where I could have told Rodney what he needed to do, he would have known already and been flatly refusing to do it. So I didn't feel sorry for him. I was prepared to and doing it. He just didn't love her enough to do what needed to be done. So it wasn't true love. His was a corrupted decent perversion of the pure religious mechanism designed for getting people to die for you like Sidney Carton (what a fruitcake). You can't fry up a fluffy omelette of love if you're afraid of smashing a few eggs.
You know how these stories end. She'll come swinging into port for that Hollywood ending. Child of another man in tow, venereal diseases of Catholicism and religion caught from and spread to countless more men taking their toll, heading back to Ole' Faithful to offload the boy and be Treated Right on that most awkward of final stretches home. Where no one wants your Toddler diseased dependant ass around any more. Warms the cockles.
______________________
The other guy I was getting these random emails from. I think they were BCC'd to everyone but I never checked too closely in case they weren't. He was just into weekly blogs via email to the school that made his life hardly worth living and I say hardly because I hardly would haven't had to think about it in his position. Guess he wanted to show them who he really was.
In his imagination.
He succeeded. These blogs were of gnarly surfing breaks, girls he'd banged, adventures he'd gotten into, fights and heroic escaped he'd pulled off against the odds. Just writing. I don't recall any - ahem - supporting materials attached. Degree of truth solid 10%.
You could bank on that % with confidence.
__________________
So maybe you're thinking you don't want to be a high achiever now.
Why the fuck would anyone want to be in this world of fail. There is no point in achieving in a world of leeches, you'll have lost. I had the most embarrassing excuse; I thought it would impress pretty girls then I got pot-committed (no girls). The other three were impressing their parents. Their parents clearly couldn't impress themselves.
But I'm pretty sure everyone is miserable. I'm also pretty sure everyone is so invested in this hilariously revealing and nonsensical obsession with faking happiness to even know what happiness is any more and for most people - and this is scary and sad - the truest happiness they'll ever get in their life is when they've managed to fool everyone into thinking,
"Shit he'd be really happy right now."
If they could
just do that, they just might be the nearest they'll ever get to happiness. Sitting there. Knowing. Everyone else imagining they're happy.
They could be living in misery but it would be a miserable bliss.