Triangle of love? No mate, it’s the Bermuda Triangle baby!

 

I never truly knew the dire repercussions of a love triangle until very recently. I knew of them, don’t get me wrong, but my first hand experience of such matters was negligible. I had never known anyone to be involved in such a consequential matter, and I myself had never actually endured such agony. Perhaps ‘agony’ is too strong a word, but I do believe such terminology is applicable in this instance for in the end, there will be pain, and no doubt it will be I who is suffering it.

Anyone who is familiar with some of my previous posts will know that I indeed do have feelings for a certain someone; a young woman who I had plans of confessing my feelings to this week. Now, before I continue let me state that I am not intentionally creating the illusion of a love triangle in order not to tell this young woman the way I feel about her. I had every intention of doing so – and note the use of the past tense there too.

That was of course up until two weeks ago. It was at that unscheduled time that I happened to come across another woman, who was just as beautiful, if not even more so, who stole my little heart away. Now, you may read this and think ‘you bastard! I can tell now why you use the pseudonym ‘naught nefarious’!’, but allow me to assure you that the physicality of a woman’s beauty is never the first thing to attract me to them if I am legitimately infatuated with said individual.

In the case of my initial crush in this instance, it was the commitment she applied to her work and how she would endeavor to do her absolute best when accomplishing whatever it was she was working on. Second, her intellect – she was incredibly smart and very sophisticated at creating well coherent sentences that were a pleasure to listen to and thirdly, had a great personality.

Now, the new woman who happened to come waltzing into my life? What was it that attracted me to her? It was none other than her writing style. If anything, I would have to say that she is quite possibly the best writer I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Her work was flawless, well edited and perfectly presented. She could write poetically, plainly, sexually and entertainingly all in the one sentence and have you eating out from the palm of her hand at but the very vision of the first word written at the beginning of her paragraph.

Now, unlike my initial crush, I am yet to meet this new woman. I have known my initial crush for going on two years and only late last year came to the realisation that I perhaps had feelings for her. I only just came to the conclusion that I liked this new woman two weeks ago. However, although we are yet to meet, I can tell from her writing that she is incredibly intelligent and would be a pleasure to communicate with.

Moving on, I have never actually been attracted to two women at the same time. For me, it used to be that I had feelings for one woman, and one woman only, and the only way I could sufficiently move on with my life after gaining such feelings was to do one of two things; either A) have a relationship with this woman, or B) discover beyond a reasonable doubt that no relationship could ever happen.

With this said, I have officially entered quite an awkward, alien situation I fear, and am having great difficulty deciding which path to choose. Of course, by ‘path’, I mean which avenue to take, and by which ‘avenue’ I mean, – oh, hell, quit the vague references – what I mean is, that I need to choose which woman I wish to dedicate my time to discovering if a relationship could work with.

Perhaps this is blatantly cold? I really don’t know – what I can tell you, is that although neither woman knows of the other’s existence, I feel as though I am cheating on both women with the other just by having the exact same feelings for them both.

Of course, funnily enough, the woman I have known for two years does not even realise that I like her, and the woman I have only known for two weeks knows full well that I have a thing for her. I do not know that by confessing feelings to one woman means I have already, without my own knowledge of it, chosen the woman that I would prefer to continue a plausible relationship with?

Of course, allow me to say one more thing on the subject – the woman I was attracted towards first is, like me, an Australian, and is at present living in the same city as I. Makes it easy to be with her. The new woman – she’s an American, and lives on the other side of the friggin’ globe! Such would make having a relationship with her more difficult. But perhaps that is why I found it easier to tell her how I feel, and easier to communicate with, because deep down I realise no relationship of any sort could ever be sparked, for it is always easier to tell those who you do not know how you feel. This here may be part of the same circumstance.

So, as previously mentioned I have myself a small situation that I cannot escape from. I need to choose which woman I wish to have a relationship with, and I fear perhaps inevitably make the wrong decision in the process. Of course, when I do make my decision, I will not be able to take it back, so I need to make, with absolute certainty, the right one.

Who would have known that love could be so difficult? I’m only twenty something! Can’t life just gimmie a break?

(Heavy sigh) I honestly am not sure what I am going to do. To be honest with you, I don’t even know why I’m writing this post – to relieve myself of the over burdening hold on my heart? I do not know.

Well, here’s hoping everything works out. Thank you for reading,

Naughty Nefarious, signing off

Talk is Cheap, but Silence is Golden

 

Why must we talk at breakfast, lunch and dinner with our families?

Who stated this had to happen?

Where did it all start?

Who can we blame?

Well, no offence, but this is the American’s doing. Yep, Americans and their drama serials, soaps and sitcoms, where the happy, stereotypical American family is portrayed as sitting around the dinner table and communicating to one another about their day.

Now, before you start sending in your hate mail allow me to state that the Americans have done a lot for us over the years. However, I do not think sitting around the table and talking to your family about your day and incorporating this ideology into a TV show and basically telling the entire world ‘you are not a good family if you don’t do this’ would be one of the many good things they have done for the world. No, not at all. In my view, it is a very, very bad thing.

Now, I will admit that at the moment not having a partner to share my life with can perhaps be a bit lonely. I wake up alone. I go to bed alone. I go to work alone. I go to university alone. I have breakfast for one, lunch for one, dinner for one and wine for seven.

I’m joking about that last part…or am I?

But at the end of the day the benefit (if you could call this a benefit) is that I don’t need to talk to anyone and I can enjoy a blissful silence with myself and my food. The day my food starts talking to me is not only a day I can officially wait for, but the day I send myself to a nice little place with rubber rooms and men in white suits.

When I ever eat with my family, it’s a completely different story. All three meals of the day if I happen to be present for them go something like this. ‘Chew, bla, bla, bla, chew, bla, bla, bla, chew, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, bla, chew’, and it just gradually gets worse from there.

As you can probably tell by now, I’m not exactly known for my socialising skills, especially when they happen to involve a dinner table. The issue I have, and I don’t know if anyone else has this problem, is that I like to taste my food. I like to enjoy my food. I like to be satisfied with my food. And I cannot eat, nor enjoy, nor be satisfied with my food when I am engaged in a conversation.

Maybe I’m a few tiles short of a roof, but I can’t seem to concentrate on doing two things at once when I am engaged in filling my body with the necessary requirements to keep me self alive for an extra few hours.

I guess anyone reading this might be looking for a point or a punch line to this whole post…I just don’t see the point why we as a species have been taught that we simply must fill our eating experiences with dialogue.

In documentary’s, I am yet to see one where two lions are gorging down the carcass of a zebra and one lion turns the other and says ‘so honey, how was your day?’ Of course, to the human ears it might sound a bit more like ‘roar, grrr, arr, roar, roar, meow’, but still, they don’t do that either.

Now, I am not saying that everyone should just shut up and eat. I can allow for some minor conversation. But I don’t see why the beginning, the middle and the end of the dinner and everything in-between must be flooded with continued conversation.

Can we not allow for a bit of silence? A bit like what Uma Thurman insinuated to John Travolta in Pulp Fiction – you know when you have found the perfect person to spend your life with when you can simply sit back and enjoy an uncomfortable silence with them.

So why that ideology cannot be spread by American television rather than this talk at the table every morning, noon and night garbage is beyond me.

If anyone reads this wishes to make a comment and say whether they like conversing a lot at dinner or believe that a little bit of silence every once in a while is golden, I would be quite appreciative to know what the people of the world think.

Thank you for reading,

Naughty Nefarious, signing off!

Broken, Done or Dying? Actually, just Dead!

 

Contains sexual references and coarse language.

Weird title? Not really – it basically describes how I will inevitably feel if everything goes belly up in regards to the current girl of my dreams; Elisha. Yes, back on this topic, and I decided I would dedicate an entire post to this subject matter, so if you do not want to be bored to tears by the soporific ideas of some love depraved love struck anti-hero – I suggest you flee immediately!

Now, some themes and ideas I have brought up in previous posts may come up during this topic, but that is just because they are directly tied in with this subject matter.

Now, I have mentioned before and I will say it again; I suck at deciphering the codes that women use. I have found that women emphasise less with vocabulary, and more with physicality; basically, they say more with their faces than with their mouths. I however could not interpret an ‘I love you’ from a ‘go screw yourself’. Hence I don’t ever act on anything in that regard. A woman could give me the ‘I fancy you’ look, and I would be able to interpret that as easily as I could fly to the moon using nothing more than a jet propelled pack constructed from tissue paper. A woman could give me the ‘I think you’re a douche’ look, and I would probably interpret that to mean the exact opposite, but still not act on my ideas from fear that I am wrong. Yes, fear, it can be a very powerful ally. It is also the one bitch that prevents you from getting anywhere in this world.

What I personally would like, is for women to go up to guys and say what is on their mind, rather than giving them a look from a distance. I can’t translate what intense and frequent gander’s means, or what raised eyebrows or smiles are meant to signify, or what bared teeth and a tongue sticking out is supposed to represent. What is so difficult with just walking up to a bloke and saying what is going through their mind? I of course mean all this in regards to relationships. I don’t mean, go up to a guy if you’re thirsty and say ‘I like diet soft drink and I’m gonna go get me self some’. No, I mean go up to a bloke and say ‘hey, I think you’re as hot as magma’ rather than staring at a guy from across the room.

I read once on the Facebook page of a Miami psychologist that apparently 92% of all men would rather women make the first move in instigating a relationship. 92%? That is a big friggin’ percentage! With my views, I probably make up 65% of that entire statistic.

That would be the benefit of women making the first move – there would be no more looks. They would do the talking rather than ogling blokes from a distance, and I would be in a finer position for it. I would for one, not be in the fine mess I am now, for if Elisha liked me – she would have said something. Or has she? That is the problem, for when women are not looking at blokes, they are insinuating ideals in their dialogue and behaviour. God, if women wrote a dictionary on their codes and their looks and such, I would be so much happier for it. Then I could look in the little book (it would probably be a huge friggin’ book) when a woman pokes her tongue out at me and say ‘oh, that means she either wants to lick me genitals – or she hates my rotten guts. Oh, she’s winking at me, and giving me the finger- yeah, she totally hates me.’

On top of interpretation of codes and hidden messages and the like is, of course, the competition. The problem is that men pursue women, not the other way around, which would be another benefit of women making the first move. So all women have to do is sit back and watch the potential lovers come up to ‘em. Men need to actually be the potential lovers, which is somewhat more complex. I believe that women often do not notice many blokes until they make contact and ask them out. Until that moment, a woman may know a bloke exists, but will see him in a neutral fashion because women are better at being friends with blokes than blokes are at being friends with women.

At high school, the only real competition are other high school students, and it is very easy to prove yourself better than the rest. Actually, it’s not, but if you can’t win on that battlefield, then you are gonna die alone, afraid, and a virgin when the real fighting starts. How come? Out in the real world, and by ‘real world’ I mean post high school, which is as real in the dating game as it is ever going to get, all of the women are now like free range hens, pardon the comparison. All of them are now on the market for all the men. Most men in their early to mid twenties are attracted to women in the same age group – women in their early to mid twenties. The problem? Men in their thirties, forties and fifties are attracted to women in the exact same age group! Hell, I’ve seen my father who is breaching sixty checking out friggin’ teenagers! He’s married BTW, and I dunno if that makes it better or worse.

Women are, and always have been attracted to older blokes. So, those guys in their thirties and so on have a much higher chance of gaining one of those young ladies than a bloke in his twenties does. How so? Older men are better equipped economically, professionally and sexually (as in experience), and are better equipped with transport and accommodation too. Would a woman be more interested in that? Or in a bloke in his mid twenties who still lives with mummy, has a job that pays about fifty bucks per day rather than five grand, has a wooden car with a wooden engine that when started up wooden go, and whose sexual experience ranges somewhere between nil and not much. Yeah, real attractive – my arse! (I was not describing myself just then, FYI).

Of course, the next issue after communication and competition are standards. Every single woman has the image of the perfect man in their minds eye, and if you do not fit that criterion, then you have already failed before the relationship has officially begun. Now, this is one section that I do know about. You see, the woman of my dreams has a blog. I ain’t gonna provide the link because I don’t want other blokes going over there, thinking she’s a fox and stealing her right out from under me! I’m already having enough trouble right now without adding any more to my list!

How so? Well, apart from issues with communication, there was my intro…the first day we met was at university during a Media Management in Public Relations class. Yes, the girl of my dreams wants to be a PR consultant of sorts. Well, PR consultant or no PR consultant, an intro is still an intro, no matter which woman you are attempting to woo. So, as for my intro – I get out of my chair, take two steps forward, trip over a chair that some bastard has left out, and nearly break my neck and flatten the girl of my dreams in the exact same moment. Yeah, real smooth. Lucky for me I grabbed hold of the table, and lucky for me it did support my weight, else that would have been the end. No, I ain’t fat, but those tables at university…you barely have to look at ‘em and they wobble. Falling on ‘em – hell, I would not recommend it in the future.

Moving on…So, I am going to provide a couple quotes from her blog to explain what she is after. Elisha’s dream man needs to be a chef, an electrician, a mechanic and a carpenter. He needs to be capable of changing a light bulb and the water in the car, and additionally needs to be skilled in child care.

Of these areas, I have potential in cooking, in changing the light globe, child care and…awwwwwwww fuck! A mechanic? I don’t even own a car! An electrician? A carpenter? Fuck me! No, she won’t be doing that any time soon! Not with the pathetic resume that I have to offer.

But wait, what is Elisha’s opinion on the subject matter. Here is a quote from her blog; ‘So wherever my future husband is, I know he will have these skills and if he doesn’t, I know that he will learn these new skills so we can build a life together.’

Okay, so perhaps things aren’t completely over yet. I do however have to learn the skills and prove myself competent in them to ensure a successful relationship. But a carpenter? I don’t want a carpet! I would rather have wooden floors! (I realise carpenters do not work with carpet – this is my sick idea of an ironic joke).

Additionally, Elisha had this to say; ‘I don’t have any preferences on how my future husband has to look. But I do have an impressive checklist of what qualifications he must hold before even considering wanting to marry me.’

So, basically, if Elisha chooses to be with someone, they could be friggin’ hideous, that is what this sentence is saying.  An impressive skill set? She wants the fuckin’ impossible! She wants fuckin’ superman for Christ sake! Also, I’m not saying I want to marry this woman, but I would like to have a long term relationship, which is looking less and less likely to occur with every paragraph I write of this post.

Adjunctively, Elisha has mentioned in the past to me that she is a strong believer in the Christian religion. I am an atheist. Is that going to spell doom and gloom? Wait a minute, if we were to get married…does that mean the wedding will take place in a church? Could I even go to church? Hypothetically, let’s just say God is real 100%. I’m an atheist, I walk into church – will He smite me down with lightning? Or will I spontaneously combust and catch fire from the spells and hexes placed across the church to prevent people such as myself who are inevitably doomed to end up in hell from entering? Oh no, perhaps I should call this whole relationship thing off…this is just far too strenuous. Second thoughts, Elisha is far too foxy and amazing to give up on just yet…moving on.

On a more serious note, returning to the views on Christianity, I want to know one thing. At the start of 2011, Elisha mentioned she was a virgin. Yes, quite the thing to admit to, but she did. Being a Christian, what is the chance that she believes in getting married before you know, having rudey nudey’s/ the deed/ a roll in the hay/ the time of our lives/ how else could I put this without putting it any other way? I am not asking this question because I am a sex crazed loon – not at all. I would just like to know where she stands. One friend of mine has decided to not have sex (oh my God, I used the word!) before getting married, and although she is a Christian, she is not as strong a believer as Elisha is.

Any other issues? Well, there is of course location. Elisha has said in the past that she wishes to go to London for a year, and to go around the entire world. I intend to stay at uni to obtain my masters, so I will be unable to accompany her if we are in a relationship. That is the thing – I do not want a long distance relationship; I want a long term one, which is completely different people! At the moment, this same difficulty is in effect. How come? Elisha lives in Darwin. I live in Melbourne. For those of you who do not live in Australia, let me give you the geography.  Darwin is located at the top most centre point of Australia. Melbourne is located in the lower most right section of Australia. There is a cool few hours of flight time in-between each state, with a massive desert smack bang in the centre. Elisha is only in Melbourne whilst she is at university, and since every semester is only twelve weeks in length (and during the week off Elisha flies back home), that provides me with very little time. Quite the issue it would seem…

The other problem would be that I am infatuated with her. And, I am sure anyone reading this right now knows how it feels to be infatuated with the one woman/person you cannot live without – it is friggin’ horrible! I realised I had feelings for her last year, but I did not make a move. Why not? Was I chicken? No, that was not it. I simply thought she was in Melbourne just for the year, and I would never see her again. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how I view this, she did return this year. I did nothing again, not because I was chicken, but because I came to this conclusion; do not do anything until the last minute, the last minute being the first week of the final semester we would ever experience together at university. That way, any awkwardness that comes from me finally admitting to her my feelings will be relatively less difficult than it would be if I mentioned the way I felt earlier on. So, if everything goes belly up, then we will only have to experience eleven weeks of awkwardness rather than an entire year’s worth.

What awkwardness am I referring to? People go to university to study. They spend a shit load of money to do so. By the time I am finished, I would have a racked up a bill that probably extends to that of 100 K, if not more. I mean, my masters course alone will cost 42 thou, and who knows about the doctorate!

At high school, people can quit at any time, whilst people who attend university attend such an institution because they want to. They wish to gain an education – they do not go there to get hit on by fellow students. If they wanted some dufus flirting with ‘em, they would spend their life in a bar. So, by waiting until the end of university basically, that limits the amount of awkwardness that could very well come from such a situation. I think…

The problem with this plan is that I cannot move on from the way I feel until I confess to Elisha my feelings cuz that is the kind of guy I am. I need to verbally convey them to the woman in question, and then, if nothing happens, which is quite the possibility, I will be able to successfully move on roughly two weeks later. If something happens, well, that would be absolutely beautiful, but I always plan for the worst, and hope for the best, but do not expect it to ever come to pass. Due to the fact that I cannot move on, I have to endure these painful feelings. Yes, they are terribly, terribly painful. You see, at the moment;
I want Elisha
the way a heart needs a beat,
the way lungs need oxygen,
the way a bee needs pollen,
the way a plant needs the sun.

I want Elisha
the way a shark needs the sea,
the way a lion needs meat,
the way earthworms need moisture,
the way rich red blood needs cells.

I want Elisha
the way a gun needs ammunition,
the way a hunting knife needs a clean,
the way an army needs a captain,
the way a country needs government.

I want Elisha
the way a husband needs a wife,
the way Cupid needs an arrow,
the way true love needs to survive,
the way moist lips need to be kissed.

Okay, sorry about the shotty poetry, but I felt no other way to explain myself nor my feelings.

So basically, I still have a few issues I need to go through…

…before I go however, there is one last question I wish to pose…back in March, Elisha mentioned in conversation that she was going to cook with someone she referred to as her ‘lovely’. Now, who might this ‘lovely’ be, cuz she never went into specifics. Lovely husband? Lovely partner? Lovely boyfriend? Lovely mother? Lovely father? Lovely family member? Lovely friend? Lovely teacher? Lovely dog? It would have to be one friggin’ awesome dog to know how to cook, let’s put it that way! Also, the post I took the information about her potential future husband? She typed that up in April, one month after mentioning this dinner. Any ideas? No? Yes? No?

I guess I will find out when I see her next…if I see her next…

Well, here’s Naughty Nefarious once more, signing off, and hoping for the best. See you round…

…and thanks for reading!

BTW, Any material acquired from Elisha’s blog is copyright of the original writer.

I Really Don’t Understand Women

 

FYI…… THIS PIECE CONTAINS SOME RATHER INAPPROPRIATE SEXUAL REFERENCES AND COARSE LANGUAGE. I should probably apologise before you continue reading in case you become shocked by what you might read.

BTW, if you have the intention of reading my other post ‘Broken, Done or Dying? Actually just Dead!’, I would recommend you perhaps read this post first to gain a better understanding of how I totally do not understand the fairer sex.

Now, I wish to talk about two instances involving women where I received mixed signals and interpreted them wrongly. Basically, as I will explain in the piece mentioned above, women give off signals to blokes to indicate whether they like them or not. Well, I have as much an easy time interpreting those signals as I would Egyptian Hieroglyphs.

One: Final year of high school. It’s literary class, or ‘porn’ as I sometimes called it. People would ask me ‘what class do you have next?’ and I would say ‘porn!’ They did not get this, and after asking ‘what?’ I would reply ‘it’s literature – but all we ever talk about is sex and nudity.’ Yes, and whoever said reading literature could not be sexy?

Anyway, perhaps it was for this very reason that I did something a little untoward. There was this foxy New Zealand chick in my class, who come to think of it was totally out of my league. For one, she played sport; soccer, hockey, wrestling – yes, she was a skinny chick, but she was a danger to the Australian people! On top of this, she was best friends with the arseholes of the school. Other people may have referred to this crowd as ‘the cool kids’, but for everyone else (meaning everyone who was not a part of this crowd), they were, and still to this day are, the arseholes! If that is not enough, she would go out every second night, and on occasion every night – and party like it was the end of the world. She would get pissed drunk! She would dance at every club every time she went out. She would hook up with random strangers. She was very wild now I come to think of it, and I’m afraid I’m not quite like that. This story is of course a post for another time, one which I shall title ‘Naughty Nefarious’s, A Nightmare on Chapel Street.’

Anyway, the end of the class comes, and I’m basically on the verge of coming too at the sight of this woman. Yes, I will admit, at the time it was quite often looks that got me interested. Amazingly enough it was after this particular woman that I grew up and decided looks were not everything, and it was the personality of the woman in question or their intellect that would gimmie interested in ‘em. But, on with the story.

I go up to the lady (who I have chosen not to name, cuz someone may read this and know who I’m talking about because how any people named Melissa O’Toole are there In Melbourne?) and I ask her out. I did not think about it, which is something cuz I like to pride myself on being kind of smart all the time, kind of. I did not hesitate. I just walked right up to her and said my line ‘do you wanna go out sometime’ like it was something I said to every person with breasts and a dress, or in her case a skirt that was so short her clitoris was constantly trying to pop out and say ‘hello world it’s me, and I’m awful moist this evening!’

Anyway, the response of this woman? Well, her friends sitting around her are dead silent; the bloke and the two other chicks – they were mid conversation, but they are all stumped! Their mouths hit the floor! Their eyes pop their sockets! Their tongues are tied like a li’l girl’s ponytails. The answer; ‘No thank you, I already have a boyfriend’, which I believe was a subtle way of saying ‘fuck off!’

The issue? Her ‘boyfriend’, the one she was ‘dating’, was the young man sitting right next to her!

Two: This one is probably pretty pathetic really. In March of this year I went to see the Americanised version of ‘Girl with the Dragon tattoo’. The first half an hour of the film I however felt was terrible. Why? The acting was superb. The directing was flawless. The dialogue was intelligent and the vibrant camera transitions were captivating. So, why was it so bad? Well, it wasn’t the film per se as it was those watching it; two of them in fact. I was seated up the very back, and so were they. Two young women to be precise. For the first half an hour at least. The issue; well, yes, they were foxy women, and the problem with foxy women at the cinema is that they are very distracting because they are so foxy, but no! That was not the issue…they kept using their phones. On, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, on, off, about twenty billion times! No – this is not a story of how I overcame the evil ladies of the cinema and told them to put away their phones. No – I placed my hand to the side of my face and by doing so they did not annoy me again. Yes – well, you see I have a very large hand. I have a very large head so it makes sense I have large hands to put next to my large head. I have large feet too which makes sense cuz I have such large hands. I also have a very large – okay, that’s enough! BACK TO THE STORY! Anyway, to digress, the ladies leave half an hour into the feature.

When the film is over, I walk out, past the cafeteria they have going on beside the candy bar – only to see the two ladies again. No, I did not confront them – quite the opposite actually – they confronted me! What the hell did I do to deserve such treatment! I’ll tell you what I did! I was too fucking handsome, that’s what! Nope, no bullshit! No joke! The ladies said that they found me attractive – and were deliberately putting their phones on and off, over and over and over again as to gain my attention and make me angry enough to go over and tell them to stop so they could initiate a conversation with me! If only I had told them to stop using their phones! Instead of watching Girl with the Dragon Tattoo I could have had a fucking threesome in the cinema toilets!

The ladies said I was an idiot, and basically made the implication they were fools to find me remotely appealing because of my inability to ‘read between the lines’ as they put it, and that any woman in general would be a fool to find me appealing after my piss poor display of my observational skills that night. I mean, want kind of idiot am I? I went to the cinema to see one of the most talked about movies of the year? I should have realised that you don’t do that! That’s not why you go to the cinema! No, you go to meet girls! That is apparently what you do these days! Who would have known? I mean, large screen, surround sound, leather seats (it was in the Extreme Screen after all), exorbitant prices – yep, who would have ever thought the cinema was where you see movies?

I’ll have you know that I have not yet had a threesome, and honestly, I’m not really looking for one. I know, loser, right? But, in my defense I have enough trouble trying to get a girlfriend, and then I have plenty of trouble trying to entertain just one woman without adding another one to the mix.

Well, with that said, I think it is obvious; during one moment, I thought the young lady was single, and did not realise the young man she was having a relationship with, if that is what the ominous ‘they’ call it these days, was sitting next to her. Yeah, I must be blind, deaf, dumb and stupid to have missed that one. And during the second circumstance I had difficulty attempting to notice two women flirting with me; albeit, rather strangely I might add, but still, flirting is flirting is flirting.

In my next post, ‘Broken, Done or Dying? Actually, just Dead!’ I wish to further this topic of discussion in accordance to the current ‘girl of my dreams’, how this applies to this situation and what my chances are.

Yes – stay tuned for the BIG reveal!

Naughty Nefarious, signing off – and thank you for reading.

Feeling a bit blasé…

 

Let’s talk about feelings…yes, I know, long drawn out sigh!

But what I really want to discuss is my feelings. I know, that is kind of pretentious, but hey, this is my blog, right?

One thing I have come to notice, especially online, is the way I convey my feelings to others. In blogs, I have this way about me, where as soon as I begin to talk about something serious, something that means a lot to me, I temporarily shut down, and I am no longer me, Derek Childs, a.k.a Naughty Nefarious – I become a sub-version of both these personalities.

How so? Instead of writing seriously, or from the heart as some might say, I take what I want to say, and I often make some rather crude or vulgar joke about it, or I formulate it in a rather rude way and try to make that which was meant to be serious into quite the riot.

This is quite the vulnerability for me. Basically, this occurs most when I begin talking about who I like, and who I would like to be with. I say how I really am infatuated with a certain someone and how I want to spend time with them, and then I make a sexual reference, not in a romantic way, but deliberately as to avoid the whole romantic sphere that I have generated.

I should probably not have to do this. In truth, I don’t have to do so period.

The issue is with ME. I don’t know why, but I want to talk about these feelings and issues online, and then when I do so, I begin to joke about them. I mean, how can I be taken seriously as a blogger or as a writer if I myself am not taking these issues seriously myself?

I would love to say that I intend to turn over a new leaf here, but I don’t like making rash promises that I cannot keep. What I will say is that in the future, if you read any more pieces of mine, I am certain you will know what I am talking about here when you see them.

How, the intro to the piece probably displays this whole conception to a ‘T’.

So, this is me, talking about how I talk, and how I am basically going to refuse to change.

Believe it or not, when talking to the people I have feelings for, it comes a lot easier. I know, hard to understand when reading this, but…I know I can do better, I just don’t think I really want to. I am not uncomfortable with the blogger I have turned out to be, but I ain’t gonna change cuz this is a part of me and I guess it/he is here to stay.

Thank you for reading.

Naughty Nefarious, or whoever the hell is writing this, signing off.

I am not afraid of spending my life with someone forever. I am afraid of never finding that someone I am to spend forever with.

 

Marriage. It is seen as quite a big step for some. For others it is a part of their culture and a necessity for their way of life. For others – it ain’t ever gonna happen. So, where does little ol’ Naughty Nefarious reside? On the fence? In any of these three previous areas of society? Actually, no. So, where exactly? I am actually looking forward to being married. I know, weird! I ain’t even twenty five yet, and I am ready to settle down.

I am just tired of the whole dating game. I mean, what is the point of dating a person for a couple days, or months, or years, only to find that the relationship comes to a grinding and excruciatingly painful halt? So, I can either bench myself, which doesn’t exactly help my cause…or I can find ‘the one’ and move on out of the whole dating game. Yes, ‘the one’. Now, I am not a-ah, shit! I’m gonna say the truth. It’s not like I’m a liar. It’s just that I would rather not admit the following… (giant sigh)………………………………………………………………………………………………………
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
…………………….I’m a romantic. Yes, I said it. I stand by it. I think I just lost all of my masculinity in that one moment by saying that, but I am going to stand by it. I am a heterosexual twenty something year old Australian bloke – and I’m a romantic to boot. Now, before I go dunk my head in a vat of acid from total embarrassment, allow me to finish my post.

I remember in high school, my year eleven teacher basically made the point that I am certain almost everyone of my age believes in. Why get married when you are so young? People want the opportunity to make mistakes, to have some fun, to have lost and lots and lots of sex with random partners, and do all three of these things and more up until the age of thirty five. Then, and only then will they settle down. Now – they are composed, and they have done enough exploration to finally have a family. In my view, why wait? If you truly love someone, you just know, right? So why not just get married immediately when you realise? I’m not saying you find a girl and one month later become Mr. and Mrs. I got married right quick. No. I’m saying after a cool couple years, then get married – do not follow the social normality that I have been told is the average stereotypical norm and wait until you have been with half the people in the state before coming to your sensors and deciding to spend your life with the one hundredth person you so happen to find.

Now, I ain’t trying to create the idea that the human race is one giant whore and I apologise if that is the view I appear to have orchestrated thus far. No, so please, allow me to explain my last paragraph. People I believe are simply naturally scared of what they do not understand. We live in a world where love is so very often not found. True love especially appears to be entirely absent from society. So, when a person is overcome by such a feeling, I guess it is normal for that person to be naturally frightened of the feeling and decide to not commit to said romance. I however am one of those people who just say ‘the hell with it – go with it!’

Now, I might say that I believe it is nonexistent, but that does not mean that people do not feel it. I am certain that every day someone is overcome by this feeling. The horrible truth is that love, it is quite possibly one of the single most painful experiences one is ever going to feel, for the loudest sound ever recorded was without a doubt the breaking of the human heart. However, the feeling can also be one of the most rewarding. The problem is with the human heart…people and nations can both be neutral. The human heart however cannot. It is the one bastard that always takes a side – and therein lies the rub. The whole connotation of ‘the heart wants what the heart wants’ reigns true, but what is the point of falling in love with someone when they cannot love you back? This is the unfortunate truth that so often occurs. In my case at least.

Now, I don’t know how it is for other people, but I have a system. I never created it, I just had it from the moment I began to become attracted to women. I obtain feelings for a woman, one single woman, and for no one else. When that happens, I pursue those feelings until I cannot pursue them no more. When is that you might ask? Once I discover that I cannot 100% have a relationship with the woman, the feelings disappear. Remarkably I have found this happens quite quick, but bearing in mind in such circumstances neither of us have dated so I basically have nothing to be mourning about. I liked the woman and had feelings for her, but never did a romance bloom. Now, I would like to state that when I successfully reel in a woman after obtaining feelings for her and I verify that she likes me too that we begin to experience a beautiful romance. I would like to say that, but not so much. Why not? My feelings change.

My heart and my mind are in constant battle with one another. My heart is all feeling and imagines the woman liking me as much as I like her and all that we can do together. My mind, that bastard is a different story. He, she, it, is up there in my head, explaining to me how my heart is wrong and how everything is going to come crashing down and how the woman could never love me in a million years. Yes, I have the most negative mind in the galaxy. Now, I have not been rejected so many times. That is not the reason why my mind believes such things. I mean, I have only been rejected three times in my life. I have only ever asked five women out (yes, I know, three plus one equals four, but I do not count the time I was in my final year of high school and playfully asked out one of my teachers – a foxy 23 year old food teacher).

Basically, I don’t think my mind has any reason to think such thoughts. So, once I verify the woman likes me, what happens? My mind, now in full control of the situation, takes control of the wheel and begins to reverse! My heart drove all the way up to the woman in question, put itself on the line, was accepted, and is now leaving. My mind officially comes to the conclusion – it is not going to get any better than this. You like her. She likes you. Nothing else is going to happen. In the end, you will inevitably fall out of like, or love, if you have unanimously grown such feelings for one another, and you would have wasted away all that time together only to leave with a broken heart. So, my mind, the safety net, believes it is saving my heart. How so?

I gain the feelings of boredom in relation to the woman. I have not been out on a date with her. Never spoken dirty with her. Never seen her fabulous naked body standing before me. Never slept with her. Never had sex with her. Never been sprung by her parents. Never been sprung by my parents. So, why the hell am I bored with her? No idea really. My heart obviously reaches the same deluded conclusions as my mind and decides, what is the point? This did not happen during my last relationship. No, this has happened since then. I really did not want that last relationship to end, so obviously my mind has adapted since then and decided it no longer wants to hear my heart bitch and whine about been broken after giving itself away, only to have the relationship come to a conclusion. I know deep down however that if I begin that relationship with a woman, my heart will grow contented and successfully retake control of the wheel. I just need to take that step. I didn’t last time though. Last year, September, I came to the conclusion that the young lady I have spoken of before in some of my previous posts liked me; maybe at least. I had proof that had been verified by my heart, but like already mentioned, my mind thinks me heart to be an idiot. So, basically, no fabulous evidence that my mind could not disavow as been anything but delusions. Anyway, at that time I began to become bored with her – over the course of about forty minutes. And suddenly, I had no control over my legs – they simply took me away from her before I had the opportunity to say anything from ‘s’up?’ to ‘I wuv you.’ What I want is for next time, if there ever happens to be a ‘next time’, for this not to happen, and for my heart to remain in friggin’ control.

I only wish that could be the case…but, like I said earlier. If I get married – I no longer have to worry about shit like this.

Naughty Nefarious, signing off.

Do women date guys who wear glasses?

 

Yes? No? Well, if I was not asking this question I would obviously have the answer, and hence, would probably not need to write a post about this. My concern? Believe it or not, I wear glasses. That image I use for my profile – that’s me wearing contacts.

Now perhaps I am ignorant for believing such a thing, and perhaps I don’t have all the facts, but it is a subject that has crossed my mind on more than one occasion. I know it happens in television shows and movies, but I am not talking about those occurrences – I am making reference to reality.

Here’s a question for you – how often do you see a gorgeous woman in a relationship with a man wearing glasses? I for one, have only ever seen this once in my life. Yes, once. I am not including myself in this equation, for I am discounting me self from such a question. I guess I could argue if it happened to me it could happen to anyone, but I would disagree because my last girlfriend was not Australian. Yes, back to the contextual Australian dilemma.

I would argue that men who wear glasses don’t look as good as men who don’t, I mean, they do obscure part of one’s face, and they stand out quite incredibly. You can see those things from several miles away, especially if they’re those jet black plastic things goin’ round town these days. I’m not saying that women are quite sensitive about an issue and quite choosy, but I would argue that a better lookin’ man has a greater chance of having a relationship with someone than someone who is lacking in such a department. Looks ultimately are a big concern in today’s society. It is said that in under seven seconds upon meeting someone, a person has already come up with an opinion of who that person is and whether they will like them or not. Again, if you see two men in a punch on, a man who wears glasses and a man who doesn’t, regardless of size, shape and build, who will you bet your money on?

Furthermore, I think women have a far greater concern than looks and impressions in this theory…genetics. Many women are going to have children, and as I have discussed previously, whether or not they are intending to have children at a young age, I believe that somewhere in the back of their mind, even unconsciously, they are choosing men partially based on their genetic structure, so if the relationship continues long term and they have children, that said children will have the best genetic security to fulfill their lifelong endeavors. Now, yeah, men may be physically stronger, but men are also genetically inferior to women, cuz of the XY gene going on, whilst women have XX. Anyone who studied such a formula (its kinda mandatory in Australia so I’m gonna guess it is also for other countries as well) would know that the XX enables the person to not acquire every single bad genetic trait, although they can still carry it. Basically, if a man and a woman have a child, and the man wears glasses and the woman doesn’t, if they had a daughter, the child would not have an impairment of the eyes, but would carry the genetic fault. If the couple had a boy, and one parent wore glasses, then that child would need to wear glasses because they are not immune to such genetic traits due to the XY gene. They would also continue to carry this genetic trait, which means they have two doses of bad luck.

This however is not just limited to the eyes, but to every single trait in the body. I’m not saying that women question blokes about their genetic properties. I know I haven’t been, but I could list the amount of relationships I have had on a piece of paper approximately two by three centimeters in diameter. However, a woman would not need to ask if the condition is manifested physically and is plainly visible – they will know immediately.

However, I do believe this swings both ways kind of. I think men too care about looks and there are times when women I have known have told me that men did not make advancements on them because they wore glasses. One friend of mine told me that the guy recommended for her to consider contacts – then he would take her out. However, due to the fact that men do not carry the child in their womb for nine months and give birth to the next generation – I do not believe they consider this when they are looking for a partner.

But this is just my opinion. What are your thoughts?

I’ve a Problem…

 

(May contain some sexual references)

…I talk before I think. I’ve had this for quite a while. Now, I’m not in need of any antidote, but I can’t seem to get a handle on it either. I see a person, or a situation, and I can’t help but open my mouth and say the first thing that comes to mind – without even processing it properly. Hell, half the time I think ‘wow, what a cool line!’ only to think ‘you stupid bastard!’ a couple seconds later.

This may be one of the reasons why I don’t really talk much to people I hardly know. I however make up for this when communing with people I have known for a while because in part I am sure they are somewhat used to what I am bound to say during a conversation. Additionally, I seem to only ever have a difficulty keeping my mouth shut about issues that should not be brought to life with people I have only just met. There is a certain feature, either physical or internal, or a view, value or trait of theirs that I feel the need to comment upon which inevitably leads to a very unhealthy relationship.

Now, it ain’t that I believe my opinion is absolutely awesome and needs to be expressed. I know it is! (Okay, joking, but seriously, back to topic) It is that I suddenly feel the need to speak my mind. I have come to realise that when I don’t mention something which I find to be quite pertinent, it begins to become a bit of a burden, and like a fat cat in a corner continuously being fed with no exercise to help the little tyke out, what I have not yet expressed begins to weigh quite heavily on me. Sooner or later when I feel I am going to burst with the info I find that I either have to express it immediately, or find some other avenue which can help me vent out whatever I wish to explain. This can be anything from feelings to resentment to just general observations, and my other ways which can relieve myself of such a burden can either be from writing down whatever is affecting me and transpiring it into either a story or piece of poetry, or going out and using the ol’ punchin’ bag.

I have been taught in the past, especially in university, to generally assume the abilities of those around you. Assume they are intelligent, strong willed and capable of understanding what you wish to express. If you find evidence to disprove this theory, well, then you can assume them to be stupid, incompetent arseholes, but only then, and not before. With that in mind, I do believe it is this theory that has caused me to believe that I can say what I want and kind of get away with it when I am talking to new people for the first time because I believe on some level they will understand me.

Of course, the other factor once more is interpretation, which seems to make an entrance in an awful lot of my posts, now, don’t it? I say something and the other person believes I am conveying something else but according to certain communicative models, during a good transaction of dialogue, what is being expressed by the sender is being received by the other in the exact same manner. However, I fear the message is quite frequently being screwed up. I guess this could be due to cultural background, upbringing, personal experience and so on, with people judging what is being said on those prior ideals.

For instance, recently this young lady introduced herself to me. I was courteous, well, I think I was, and I guess an alright kind of host. She wanted to have some assistance of sorts navigating the area because she was new to these parts. I suddenly ask her not far into our meeting why she would choose me over other guys because I do not know her and that I am certain to have remembered her if we had met because she is quite attractive.

At these words the young lady in question flees for her life and I have not seen her since. Actually, come to think of it nobody has. Oh my… Actually, that was a joke, I’m sure she’s fine. Seriously though, what exactly did I say that was wrong? Yes, perhaps I should not have blurted out what I did eventually blurt out, but I don’t see the harm in it. If I had said ‘I find you absolutely ravishing – let’s make wild animalistic love on the floor right now like a couple angry lions on deep fried crack’ then yeah, I guess I could see that as being perhaps a little disturbing. But I was paying her a harmless comment that had no innuendo or nefarious motive applied to it. What I said was not some kind of code in regards to me wanting, you know, THAT! Just because I choose to go by the name Nefarious in these posts, does not naturally mean I am so.

See, that is exactly what I mean by issues in communication and interpretation. I say one thing, where I explain how I do not know the woman, although she seems to be somewhat insinuating that I do by pairing up with me to help her around town, before paying her a non-threatening, non-sexualised comment, and suddenly, she runs, like an old limerick once said, over the hills and far away.

So yeah, maybe I do have an issue. Either I need to learn to shut the hell up, or I should get myself a girlfriend – then I can say all the things I want and not care if they are interpreted as deviant sexual comments because if she is dating me, then wouldn’t this young lady in question be willing to accept such commentary, regardless if it is meant to be sexualised or not?

I mean, I can understand the tower of Babel coming down and God having everyone speak a different language and all that, I mean, if you believe that interpretation of events, but what I don’t understand is how I’m speaking English, and the other person is speaking English, and we are both talking English, and have both been taught to speak English, yet one of us is obviously not getting the message because I say one thing (in English btw), and the other person hears something else. I mean, did I stutter? Or, in society today, does stating ‘you’re attractive’ naturally mean ‘I wanna have sex with you?’

Funnily enough, if I really am attracted to a person it usually takes me a while to talk to her – or I simply never do period. Perhaps I should apply my ideas of communication in general to this line of thought – then I’ll be onto something. Right? Probably not, but who knows. Like I said in a previous post, I have a rule where I don’t ask out women I either work or study with, and if I ever do so, I leave it to the very last second when I am about to leave or quit. Then, technically I am not breaking my rules, and I am additionally not annoying the young lady in question, which is my goal in not asking them out during my time there – to not annoy them. But that’s just my opinion.

I don’t think I’m annoying. I don’t think I’m a sex crazed loon either, but these seem to be the interpretations that are coming through with those who I communicate to…

…hmmmm, ponder about this subject I will.

Naughty Nefarious signing off

Emotions beginning with the letter ‘L’

 

There is some strong coarse language in this piece, along with some sexual references.

I have discussed in previous posts my general ideas behind how to possibly determine how a woman feels, what they want, etc, but rarely have I discussed my opinion. Yes, all of what I discussed was MY opinion, but what I mean by this was that never did I state how I would go about such things. My opinions were nothing more than a general overview, which is something I wish to rectify in this post.

My general notion behind this piece is not an answer, but a question – what is love? It is a question that Haddway asked, which many people I have known throughout the years have simply laughed off. But what does a young man who has only ever had one girlfriend know about love? Yeah, I’m being positively honest with you now – one girlfriend. So who am I to talk about such things? What professional experience do I have in the matter? Not to be pretentious or egotistical, but I would like to think I’d have quite a bit. I would not determine a man who has had fifty girlfriends in his time to know more than me based simply on quantity. I would judge it on the quality of the romance that was explored in the relationship. Of course, I don’t just mean how often the couple had sex, or fooled around or made out. I’m talking about the feelings they had together. I know, boring topic to some. Many people I have known seem to think that if you have sex frequently it must be love. I would disagree.

As for my relationship resume? Well, I had my first kiss when I was five, and my second when I was six, and I didn’t kiss another woman until I was nineteen! It was then that I had a relationship with an American woman for eight months. Yes, an American woman, who was also a single mother. This relationship ended though when she decided to give her partner another chance for the sake of her daughter. This was her prerogative and I respect her for it, enjoying the time that we had together which were quite possibly some of the best days of my life.
Not once in my life have I ever had a relationship with an Australian. So when I mentioned in previous posts I was quite unsure about the signs Australian women give off, I was being brutally honest, otherwise you would imagine I would have won one of ‘em over by now, wouldn’t yer?

 I could argue that I had a purely sexual relationship with one of my friends that was on again off again over the course of a few months, but I would hardly refer to one night stands as being anything reflective of a relationship. I for one prefer relationships over one night stands due to their meaning. Relationships are on quite a heartfelt level, right? Sure, sex is great, I won’t argue against that notion, but I would rather experience it with someone I love rather than someone who won’t remember me in the morning cuz she was so far fucked out of her mind from the amount of alcohol running throughout her veins.

On another note however, at times I have quite enjoyed being single. I mean, the freedom one possesses at the time? You can do want you want when you want and spend all the money you wish or be conservative – there is no one to dictate the terms, for in a relationship, sooner or later everything begins to be shared around, and when you are single you can simply hog everything to yourself. If you want to walk naked throughout the house, feeling the breeze in places you have not yet felt the breeze, you can do so! If you want to purchase a pony and ride it around the backyard to your heart’s content, you can do so! If you want to drink booze every night and have potato crisps attached to your body as you eat and drink in front of the midnight telly with your pants half undone, your penis frequently popping up to say hello, you can do so! (This last one is not reflective of women I don’t believe)

But, then again you do spend an awful lot of nights alone, and although I do enjoy my own company, the silence sometimes becomes so loud that it simply dulls the sensors. It is then that you realise how lonely it feels to be alone when you wish there was someone to share the experience with. When in love, there is no greater comparison in my opinion – the feelings is so amazing. I don’t think I have ever been happier than when I have thought about the women I have loved or the feelings that have come from such romances.

So, now that I have discussed my background, I would like to discuss the topic at hand here – what would I do? Okay, hypothetically, there is the woman of my dreams. Let’s call her Elisha for arguments sake. The problem I find with women is that they are always in groups. Never are they on their own. So how to split her and her friends up temporarily to have her all to yourself?

This is not as easy it would sound. Not because the task is difficult, but because of my views and values. I have a rule – I do not date women I work with, and I carry this rule onto university. You see, at high school, you can leave whenever you wish. It ain’t mandatory. However, people choose to go to university, and it can cost anywhere between ten to thirty thousand dollars to accomplish a three year course, depending on the study you are undertaking. So, I would consider myself to be doing women a favor in this circumstance by not coming onto them because they chose to go to university to gain an education, not go to a university to be hit on by some arsehole.

So, first step in telling the woman of my dreams I fancy her. BREAK MY RULES! TOSS OUT THE BOOK! HELL, WIPE MY ARSE WITH IT!

So, after that, next step? Well, to acquire the woman in question I would believe there to be two direct methods, if not three. One, go up and ask the woman if you can have a moment. I would not say what the matter is concerning, but try to deflect the question, i.e., ‘why can’t two human beings just talk amongst each other?’ or some line like that as to convey the simplicity and normality of what you are saying and to imply there is no alternative motive, which there certainly is! Additionally, you could e-mail the woman. Use the e-mail account that she has with the university and ask her when she is available during university hours to catch up, or talk about an assignment? Or, if you have her number, which I unfortunately do not (actually I did for a group project, but I deleted it when the group project was finished, FUCK!), and so call her instead and ask her that way.

Hopefully her friends do not come. However, if you are feeling bold and do not care about other people viewing what you have to say, explain that her friends can come if the woman in questions feels she would need protection. Now, lure the woman away from the general public to a corner area where prying eyes will not see, unless of course her friends come too, then prying eyes there will be, so skip this step then if it is but worthless.

I would first up explain that nothing will change. I will try to make it sound as though the conversation is to be normal, although my explanation may do the complete opposite. I would say that if she did not enjoy what I had to say, that her word would dictate how things would go, and if she did not enjoy my words and what they were explaining that we would never speak of the matter. Simply pretend it never happened and continue onwards like one always did, with promise of perhaps never talking to her again if it would please her. I would keep this speech however short and sweet as to not spark too much anxiety.

What to say next? I would begin by subtlety explaining how I feel towards her. By subtle, I do not mean come out right and cry ‘I FUCKING LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’ No, not subtle enough I am afraid. I would explain that she does mean something to me, but without using such words.

As for what to say next? I wouldn’t. A kiss is nothing, not even a first one. It is the passion behind it that has meaning. So, with that said I would kiss her there and then. If she likes you, there is every opportunity she might kiss you back. If she proceeds to knock your block off, I would consider that to be a ‘no’, so I would recommend this move to men who are REALLY in love with the woman of their dreams.

‘Love’ being the next step. If there is no other word one can find to describe their feelings for this woman, then love in my view would be the acceptable answer. I would ask yourself this though? Do you long to hold her in your arms? To feel the gentle taste of her sweet lips on yours? Do you think about nothing but her, and does not having her fill you with anxiety, frustration and horror? Is she in every breath you take? In every pore? In every heart beat? In everything that you do? Does she torment you in you sleep, her memory haunting you? Does the very sight of her give you cause to smile ever so perfectly? If all these and more are symptoms one is suffering, I would probably say that the term ‘love’ to be the most accurate in its definition, and to say ‘I’m in love with you’ to be perhaps the perfect way to end this. She now knows where you stand, and has the opportunity to continue or end what is there and then, or sleep on it if the case may be. It also is not a question. I find asking a woman out to be not very nice. Three times I have tried this on Australian women I liked. Twice they rejected me, and on the third occasion the woman’s father did.

However, kissing the woman in question is not a good idea if she happens to have either a boyfriend, girlfriend or crazy deranged father. If you wish for your life expectancy to be cut short and the number of days you have left on this Earth to be measured between the numbers ‘naught’ and ‘zero’, I would totally recommend this course of action!

Well, that is my plan. Foolproof it is not. Also, I have never tried it, so if you do and it fails, well, at least I’ll know not to use it for myself! I’m not saying I ever will, I’m just saying how I might hypothetically go about getting the girl via unconventional means.

As always, this is Naughty Nefarious signing off. Thank you for reading.

How do you know if a woman likes you?

Really, if you came for advice, allow me to assure you of one thing – you sure ain’t gonna find it here. I didn’t develop the title of this post because I was going to discuss the sudden breakthrough I made of realising how women showed their affections towards you. No, not at all.

Now, I don’t know about other blokes, but I cannot read between the lines. Women give off so many different signs that one can interpret, that you would need a novel, or ten, to properly familiarise yourself with half of the different codes. I however, if it’s any conciliation, can tell when a woman doesn’t like me. That, I am good at. I don’t know about women from other places around the world, but if there’s one thing you can say about Australian women, it is that at least a third of them are blunt and open. I say that because at least a third of the women I have come across have indicated their distinct loathing towards me. Some I don’t even know, and they come outta the blue and up to me to explain ‘I hate your rotten guts’, but it is usually in not such nice terminology. The other thing you can say about that distinct third amount of women – they are not shy when it comes to expressing themselves.

Another great way to tell a woman doesn’t like you is if they go out of their way to avoid you – also a frequent occurrence in my life. In university, yes, even at university, I have noticed women walking down the hall I happen to be located in, spot me, and indicate to their friends that I am there by pointing at me, and like I am the creature from the black lagoon itself, they turn around and go, sometimes the long way around, to get to their endeavored location just so they can avoid me. This is still that third of the women I was talking about.

Now onto the other two thirds – they are the ones who refuse to communicate verbally, but with physical gesture. One could argue that if a woman notices you and speaks to her friends and they giggle that this is a good sign. One could even say that a woman who frequently looks at you is telling you something good as well. Or a woman who speaks to you often, or even a woman who says ‘hi’ to you, even though you have not spoken in several months. Perhaps even a woman who looks jealous when you talk about other women?

There is one thing I will say – whoever designed the male species, or at least whoever designed me, did a very piss poor job – because like I said, I cannot read between the lines, and nor can many other guys I have known. Hell, some have even given up whilst at university with the sole intention of pursing their studies. I wish that was me. It was my intention up until recently at least, but back onto the topic at hand. If a woman giggles to her friends after looking at you – they could be laughing at something someone else said, or hell, they could be laughing at you, who knows?! A woman who looks at you might be looking everywhere but at you, even if her eyes happen to come across your direction. You could be sitting next to the man of her dreams, or the woman of her dreams if she so happens to swing that way. A woman who speaks to you might have simply being raised to be courteous and kind, and a woman who looks jealous, well, she may have a thousand reasons for being so.

The end point here is INTERPRETATION. What the eyes see the mind interprets, and depending if you yourself are compromised romantically, the heart will determine this to be something of import as to further the belief that the woman is as affectionate towards you as your feelings are towards her. Like I said in a previous post ‘sometimes the heart is stupid’, and some of the themes already brought up in this piece are reminiscent of that discussion.

Unfortunately the only really good way to find out is to talk to her, which can be as simple as leaping out of an air plane without a chute. Yes, that is simple, I realise that, but I am trying to paint the picture that it is VERY DANGEROUS! Nuclear even! If you ask me, women, yes, do not have as many rights as men, and equality is an issue that needs to be invested in. But when it comes to relationships – I would like to state that women probably hold most of the power, especially when it comes to their dissolution. They plunge their fingers straight into the chest of the man who has feelings for them and rip out their still beating heart and hold it out before him for all to see. As his eyes glaze over, the last breath escaping from his lings, the woman tosses the heart like a pro cricket player as it slaps into the wall behind the location of the man, its red sticky surface connecting with the wall and lingering as it groans its final few beats. With that, it slides across the surface of the plaster before collapsing onto the ground, the red ooze that was once considered life beginning to drain from the once proud love organ, now rendered obsolete.

Women sometimes also have a tendency to talk. So too do men, but I’ve found women especially when it comes to who likes ‘em, unless of course they find the man asking them out or confessing his feelings to have humiliated them and by talking about such a thing would lesser their stature in the eyes of their friends. However, in cases not like that, women can talk about what happened, laugh and sigh and eventually, sooner rather than later, it’s like all the women in the city know about what went down. Not good at all.

So, apart from embarrassment, pain, loss, what else can come of this? Well, I do know what one can do in replace of – research. So many people have social media pages now, and many state if they have a partner. The only problem is that you need to be logged in to access such information, and sometimes you even need to be their ‘friend’ (bugger!). Also, some sites record who visited so one can find out who looked at their pages – when I say ‘research’, I mean discreetly – to get away with it as to not alert anyone to your planning. Have I done this? Once. Did it work? Well, it stopped me from pursuing the woman in question, and ultimately stopped me from acting the fool.

On another note, what do I think would be good? I know in Hawaii, in certain cultures women wear a flower in their hair on a certain side of their head, and depending on what side depends on their status – whether they are taken or solo, which can aid in one’s quest. It would also be good, if that one third of the women I talked about earlier, actually encompassed the entire percentage of them, which meant that all would confess their feelings whenever they wished. This however would not be so good if all the women in the world loathed your guts, but that is just the risk one would have to take.

So all in all I am assuming that nobody learnt anything from this post? Well, I know I sure didn’t learn anything I already didn’t. I began this post with no idea how to tell if a woman likes you, and I am about to leave with the exact same mind – a very empty one. I guess if you want information on this subject, either look it up on Google, or ask a woman to simply tell you the signs. They might not though, because the world of women is a secret society that few men are ever granted access to. I know I ain’t ever gonna be blessed with such a rite.

Well, that’s all for me and this post. Sorry for the lack of information folks!