A ‘player’ is just a desperate man trying to hide all his personality defects behind the adulation of his peers. They idolise him because he can pull women. They think he’s ‘the man’ because he shags girl after unsuspecting girl, using childish playground techniques to lure them into bed. Or, if he’s really pathetic, he relies on books like ‘The Game’ because he can’t think of how to attract the opposite sex without help.
In Hollywood movies, he starts off being the guy every other man wants to be … He’s the envy of his friends. To them, he has charm, charisma, sex appeal and balls of steel. He punches above his weight and seems to have it all. Fast forward to the end of the movie and he’s the one all his friends have outgrown. He’s the one without a family, trying desperately to hang on to the fringes of his buddies’ lives. The pals who once wanted to be him now find him immature and annoying. He’s suddenly the one his mates are least likely to want to emmulate. Instead, they all have lovely girlfriends or wives and beautiful, endearing kids who give unconditional love – they accept their man / father for all that he truly is and not for what he could be.
A player thinks excessive sex and breaking women’s hearts makes him a real man but real men don’t use women. They don’t treat them as possessions. They don’t lie to them without conscience. They don’t feel the NEED to pull for an ego boost. They don’t fear or disparage committment. They don’t run away from relationships. And they don’t ever abandon their kids.
If you’re one of these sad losers that always idolises the player in the movies and stupidly thinks they’re living a better lifestyle *NEWS FLASH* – NOBODY EVER WANTS TO END UP WITH THESE DUDES. Not even their friends. If that’s a future you want, then carry on gaming. No-one will care because, eventually, everyone around you will start to recognise you for the insecure, fragile guy that you’ve been so desperately trying to hide. Everyone’s true colours show in the end and the picture you paint to all the people you meet along the way will define you forever.
Still think players are cool? Yeah? God, I feel so sorry for you. You’re insecure AND dumb. Wow.
Earlier this year, I went to a club night in London which was one of the most eye-popping I’ve attended in the last 12 months. It was an urban themed event with a hip hop edge, where budding MCs freestyle against each other in hopes of winning a cash prize. Not to be outdone, ‘dancers’ round off the night with a booty shaking contest – again driven by the chance to win a sum of cash. Hotpants or G-strings are optional but favoured. Fair enough, each to their own. Shake what your momma gave you if you’re that hard up for cash but… Why flounce the object of the competition (butt shaking) when you lose? One disgruntled entrant was so aghast at being voted off at the end of the first round, she decided to flash her breasts to the entire club. Twice. Her momma must be so proud (see video link below).
Every entrant (MC, booty shaker, DJ) at the event agrees to be filmed for the club night’s YouTube channel, which – judging by the number of video views – must be raking in considerable dough from ad revenue. Furthermore, all spectators are also encouraged to film the events on their mobile phones, after which the footage naturally becomes their own to share online with their friends.
So, this begs the question, why shake what your momma gave you to win a few quid from an event organiser who can potentially make thousands from the videos of your performance? Why not shake your ass or bare your breasts to your own webcam on your own channel and rake in all the dough for yourself?
This is why I say ‘ladies aren’t what they used to be’. First of all, we aren’t being very ladylike in the club or on camera but, secondly - and, in my view, most importantly- we aren’t being very smart about making money from our own personal brands. Why let someone else benefit? If you want to sell your body on camera, become the Oprah Winfrey of that show! Don’t end up being a spectator at your own party!
Last week, my mate’s mum told me that I was too fussy and that I’d never meet a suitable bloke unless I changed my criteria.
I’ve thought about this and, I ask you, is it really too much to want to meet someone that I have chemistry with in the first 5 seconds? Is it really my fault that I like the quick-witted, sarky ones? I mean, I meet guys all the time, but I don’t fancy them… there’s always something wrong.
Take the super good-looking guy that asked me out a hip hop club night… he was wearing a clown suit. Seriously. I could just about see his face under the outrageous wig, and don’t even get me started on the loud shirt, over-sized shoes and braces holding up his trousers. Call me prejudiced, but I really don’t like clowns.
Then there was the cute man I met on holiday – his chat up line was “I like to lick it before I stick it” which he followed with a child-like giggle and a cocked eyebrow. Hell, no. That was just too friendly. Then there was the tall, dark and handsome bloke I met at a bar – he told me that he makes every woman reach orgasm because he likes to stick his finger up their bum during love-making. I didn’t even finish my drink before I ran for the nearest exit.
Then there was the ‘wonderful’ religious geezer who told me that if he wasn’t marrying his fiance he’d marry me instead but I shouldn’t let that stand in the way of us getting it together. I told him to naff off and headed to the nearest chipie to buy a pork kebab.