I am not your buddy, pal.
I'm just saying that most if not all women these days are sad failures of disappointments.
Paula Cole once lamented "where have all the cowboys gone?"
I lament "Where have all the Valkyries gone?" I want a lithe and bitter woman with sharp features and long black wild hair, blue-violet eyes and pale skin who is harsh and cruel. I'm talking Jenny Schecter with balls man. In another time she would have stood high atop a mountain wrapped in wolf's furs and carring a broadsword. Perhaps in more contemporary times she would have been wearing jackboots and carrying a Browning Hi Power when others were toting overrated Walther PPs and PPKs helping make the undermen into lampshades.
A knight errant. I'm not delusional to think that some chick is going to come rolling up in an uparmored Crown Victoria or Hemicuda wearing ripped tight blue jeans and wearing a Slayer shirt and saying "You look like a man who enjoys Colts, benzos, and Morphine. Let's have a heartfelt discussion on aforementioned subject matter. Then we will have efficient, commiserate German sex." When the time comes for her to bear children she will not go to pre-natal care, whine to her parents, or go to the hospital.
She will go off to the woods and do her woman's work. Then come back with a howling young buck of a male baby whose lungs sear with the brisk winter air as he laments his birth into a harsh world where one must become stronger or break.
You people are stuck on lite, non-threatening pop rock
I'm down here wanting to listen satanic, fascist heavy metal. You all are full of shit wanting to be pussy whipped by some stupid bitch. They are all stupid and vapid. Once you've fucked one they just become cum receptacles that talk and beg for money and blow up your cell phone with inane texts like 'lol omg wut r u duing lol???????"
NAY! I want an Aryan goddess of the Master Race who will clean house, work a job and put my needs before her own because she sees me as an investment. She is my tool. I am hers.
And when my foes come for me....and should they succeed. She will cut her womanly long black hair into a short bob and avenge me with a bayonetted AK-103 and a flamethrower. And as she stands triumphant amongst the dead. She lets out a primal roar of quenched vengeance. She may even cut into her chest with a benchmade Nimravus in triumph like the Native American dude from Predator 1.
See....THAT is a woman. What you have is a sad imitation.