Love Me Tinder pt. 2

steemit.com5y ago

In the old days before the internet, you had to scour the streets at night like a hungry wolf, hunting for a girl that reminds you of your mother. Once you found a girl you actually had to talk to her. Even if you do manage to score a date it’ll be two months until the lies you tell each other start to fall apart and you really get to know her. You might already be married by the time you realize the two of you have nothing in common. Sure, people lie online, but you can still scan profiles for red flags like Wiccan, princess, fluffy, pregnant, and, “If you can’t handle me at my worst, then you don’t deserve me at my best.”

One of the pitfalls of Online dating is what psychologist Barry Schwartz describes in his book “The Paradox of Choice” as decision fatigue. It’s like when you only had seven television channels to choose from. You flipped through the stations and either found something you were happy with or went and did something else until The Price is Right came on. Now you have three hundred channels and there’s nothing to watch. With more options come higher expectations and less happiness. Buddha said that shit about 1600 years ago but nobody read his profile because he’s fat. So now, instead of walking into the booty interview wearing your best suit to make a good impression; you email your resume to booty HR, where it goes in a slush pile with 10,000 other applications. Then Snowflake picks Casanova over fifty qualified soul mates because he padded his credentials with the right keywords. Casanova doesn’t even want the soul-mate job. He’s going to quit showing up for work as soon as he gets a blowjob and Snowflake is left wondering why she can’t find a man.

It would be easy to be angry at Snowflake but remember, she has 10,000 applications to sort through. Instead of hitting up every girl at the bar until he finds one that thinks he’s cute, he just swipes right all day long until he gets a few nibbles. Casanova landed the swipe because his profile says he is an international man of mystery who drives a Porsche and wants to settle down. He’s looking for hotties but if it’s 2am and a solid 5 hits him up odds are he’ll go ahead and tell her everything she wants to hear. A couple dick pics later and he’s riding the D-train to Grand Central Vagina. He’ll chew his arm off in the morning and escape out the window, but at least he got a nut. Bargain bin Snowflake will eventually realize she’s been used…but it was by an international man of mystery who drives a Porsche. Now she just needs to find one who isn’t a player and she’ll settle for nothing less.

"Must be 6'1" and independantly wealthy"

It’s a shame. Online dating has the potential to connect every person on the planet with that special someone, but everybody fucks it up by trying to game the system instead of just using it like it was intended (Cough, cough, Steemit). You could cry all day about how unfair it is that Casanova got your girl but once your tears are dry he’s still the one getting laid and you aren’t. Life isn’t fair, cheaters do win, good things happen to bad people all the time, and assholes usually don’t get what they have coming to them. In all walks of life, there is a chasm between the way things “should” be and the way they actually are. If you want the internet to be a booty ATM, you must become Casanova.

The first thing you need to do is take a shirtless selfie of yourself wearing sunglasses. Girls will tell you this is gross and it turns them off but they are full of shit. News flash: Women are attracted to hot, confident, shirtless guys. If you have a gut, suck it in. If you have too much gut to suck in, be holding a bunch of money. Hundred dollar bills have a slimming effect in profile pictures.

"Eww, gross"

Go to the lake and offer the first guy you see with a boat ten dollars to take a picture of you behind the wheel. Nothing says “disposable income” like a boat. That’s catnip for women.

Post pictures of yourself with beautiful women. Have you ever noticed how as soon as you get a girlfriend other girls start hitting on you? This is because of a thing called “pre-selection.” Girls shoot down guys for a million different reasons. When you have a girlfriend it signals to other girls that a woman has checked your credentials as a boyfriend and you got the job. That another girl chose you means you must have value. If a girl sees you having a good time with super-hot chicks on your profile she is going to want to get in on whatever you have.

Flattery will get you nowhere. Her inbox is full of guys kissing her ass. You don’t want to be standing in that line. Flip the script by making her prove she is worthy of you. It works best if you insult her in the process because she’ll want to defend herself and she can’t do that unless she messages you back. Say something like, “List three reasons why I should take you out despite that bad dye job.” Now it’s her job to impress you.

Pick some random shit on her profile and comment on it instead of on her. Bonus points if you can make it about you. Don’t tell her she has pretty eyes. Tell her you have the same kind of cat as her, at least you did until Catnip Everdeen had to be put down after losing her battle with cancer. Also, be aggressive. Don’t ask for a date. Instead, say you want to test out some shit you saw on 50 Shades of Grey. If she writes back to tell you she “isn’t like that” it means she is interested. If she was truly creeped out she would just ignore you. What she is really saying is, “I want to have sex, but I need you to tell me I’m not a slut first.”

Don’t pay any attention to what she says on her profile. All those pages of things she expects from a man are like a Christmas wish list. She said she wants a pony but deep down she knows she’s getting a curling iron. Nobody gets everything they want and every girl has fucked at least one guy she is ashamed of. It might as well be you.

Snowflake will tell you this is all horrible advice but what she won't tell you, is she's still waiting for Casanova to call her back after he fucked her last week.

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