March 17, 2010

Ladies, do yourself a favor, escape from New York. It is the worst possible place to find a man. The ones that are available have been spoiled rotten by the unequal distribution of women to men and even if you get one into a semi-normal relationship, he will cheat.

Spend a few dates with a New York male however and you may not be so worried about infidelity. They are unbelievably boring and self-centered. I am addicted to eavesdropping on dates here in the Big Apple and it is always some turd talking about himself incessantly while his tolerant date suffers through five hours of someone else’s ego. “€œI think they”€™re starting to realize most of the best ideas are mine,”€ he will inevitably say about his job, “€œbut I don”€™t want to rub it in their faces just yet.”€ His date will nod and wonder how she went from the prettiest girl in high school to a walking therapist.

In New York it is perfectly acceptable to be a single male at 43-years-old. These particular men don”€™t want to settle down with a woman their age. Why would they? That leaves you old and alone with no hopes for continuing the 40,000 years of post Neanderthal humanity that brought you here.

“The end result of all this “I”€™m OK You”€™re OK” propaganda is men can get away with things like picking up a girl at 27 and then dumping her at 32 like it ain”€™t no thang.”

Besides being doomed, New York women are tenacious as hell and have adapted to this unfortunate circumstance in three impressive but sad ways.

They embrace their single status and wear the cougar moniker on their lapel like it’s an expensive broach. They proudly sit at a café during one of the few lunch breaks they can take out of the office and say, “€œI like being single”€ exactly the same way Judy Davis said it in Husbands and Wives. Turning bad into good has become an integral part of Gotham’s female culture. When I see Sex in the City, I see a group of lonely women bitching about loneliness. New York gals see it as a way to make make lonely cool.

They scoff at children claiming the world is overpopulated yet they fawn over their pets like an old Italian grandma seeing her grandchildren for the first time. Whenever my kids see one walking down the street they say “€œDoggie”€ because it is. Cougars scowl because this is the n-word of the dog community—”€œHis name is Max.” For the record ladies, Max has been bred for thousands of years to love humans unconditionally. We literally made him love you.

The final and most effective trick these women use to deny the fact that they have walked into an elephant’s graveyard for their ovaries is to deny they have walked into an elephant’s graveyard for their ovaries. Is there a special section at New York’s Beth Israel Hospital for pregnant woman over 30 called “€œGeriatric Mothers”€? Nope. Did a new study say we may be too generous saying it’s hard to have babies after 30 and the number is more like 27? Uh uh. Does having children late in life lead to autism? Why, that’s absurd.

In fact, I”€™ve heard 30-something friends of mine describe doctors who tell them they”€™re running out of time as “€œsexist.”€ If the math ever does seep into their gorgeous skulls, they claim having babies is gross anyway because there are so many babies waiting to be adopted (a claim Sarah Silverman recently made). Er, there’s lots of non-white babies looking for adoption. In 1990, only 1,500 of the total 120,000 adoptions were whites adopting blacks (less than one percent). If that’s you, go bananas, but I suspect it’s another thing women are much more likely to say they’d do than actually do.

I get a lot of flack from my bitches claiming I think a woman isn”€™t worth anything if she doesn”€™t breed. This is false. The truth is 80 percent of people marry by 40 and only seven percent of them choose not to have kids. If you”€™re one of the few women who don”€™t want what most other women want, all the power to you. Seriously. I just don”€™t want this shitty city and it’s liberal use of lies to make any more of my girls unhappy. Communism taught us lying never works and the end result of all this “I”€™m OK You”€™re OK” propaganda is men can get away with things like picking up a girl at 27 and then dumping her at 32 like it ain”€™t no thang.

Plenty of women deny this is an issue and give some anecdotal evidence about a 40-year-old who had kids with ease. All right, here’s some anecdotes. My mother had my brother at 41. This is called UNUSUAL. The rest of my friends go a little like this: Nadia (the one who called the doctor sexist) just hit 45 childless and alone and doesn”€™t seem very jazzed about it, Paul and Alka spent five years and $10k trying to make their own after waiting until she was 35 and ended up adopting, Mike and Jan spend $15k and eventually made twins in a sea of miscarriages, Reggie and Marcia recently gave up after turning 40 and trying for 5 years, Wendy’s 38 and getting nervous, Marny’s 38 and in a relationship now with a 25-year-old she’s confident won”€™t last long enough to raise a kid so she’s going to get pregnant anyway… the list goes on and on. I”€™ve heard there are plenty of women who don”€™t want kids and are happy childless but I”€™m yet to meet one (oh and 30-year-olds, please don”€™t email me telling me how happy you are and yada yada yada—honest regret doesn”€™t start until after 40).

The other problem with trying to tell women that going against all their instincts often turns out bad is all the stats they cite showing you happy childless women. I”€™m honestly glad if this truly is working out for them but I”€™m also dubious. One of humanity’s greatest talents is taking the hand your dealt and learning to love it. Harvard professor Dan Gilbert recently discovered people who are given a choice rate it much lower than people who have stuck themselves with none. So ladies, please stop closing your beautiful eyes to biological facts. The odds are you”€™re not some freak that doesn”€™t want a family. Nor are you likely to be one of the medical anomalies that can turn everything around in your 30s and 40s. Move to LA where relationships are inevitable and instead of cocaine and mindless indulgence, the nightlife is about deciding between a quaint dinner party at home and a movie at home. After all, isn’t that where the heart is?


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