How many ways are there to express to a woman that you couldn’t give one fuck two fuck red fuck blue fuck about her? Well, if you’re keeping track, feel free to add the word “cushioning” to your list, as it’s the latest way to describe what is now the acceptable mode of infidelity in the twenty-first century: “keeping your options open” a.k.a. philandering with multiple people in case you get bored of the “main” one. But who can be “main” when you’ve got your tentacles (though certainly not a tentacle that can be considered large enough to be your dick) on varying broads?
Cushioning is considered somehow a less serious offense in the column of inconstancy because it is simply deemed a way to set something up for later in the back of a “man’s” mind, even if he’s also sticking his panisse up the back of multiple women at the same time. A “man” can also maintain a friendly rapport with a woman he knows and considers worthy of taking into his inevitably shoddy bedroom (probably Banksy-themed no doubt) at some point when he’s bored with the current roster.
So, yes, add the word cushion to the very long list of synonyms for it and being an asshole incapable of commitment to any one thing or person: back burner, playing it by ear, etc. And while you’re at it, sit the void where your dick is down on a pin cushion filled with more pricks than you’ll ever have.
It used to be you could get a modicum of common courtesy in the pre-dating app world. “Men” had to be more discreet with their constant perusal for the next orifice to stick their nub in. But the advent of Tinder (and other jank knockoffs of its nature) altered a “man’s” perspective on appropriate, decorous trolling behavior. Vagine overload, if you will.
While, yes, women still mainly use the app in the hope of at least getting free food or drink out of an encounter with a “man” whose conversation skills are limited to monosyllabic cave speak, it doesn’t give a so-called dude the right to go on the hunt for his next fix merely because he’s bored, dissatisfied or otherwise. What is more, the least a “man” could do in exchange for being given the privilege of touching a woman’s cuerpo is not go on a quest for another in her presence. But then, that would be too dickful an act in the twenty-first century.
A lot of women like themselves some good 18 to 25 dick. But the only penis you’ll get in this age bracket is a small lump in the genital area. This type of “male” or, rather, some hybrid breed that has not yet become a “man,” has a tendency to listen to indie rock and wear skinny jeans. Of course, certain Williamsburg residents over the age of 25 also do this, but that’s an entirely different subject to address.
The 18-25 year old man
The body, opinions and personality of the 18 to 25 year old man are so unformed, so utterly inconstant and based on very little other than porn, video games, beer and pop culture featuring titties. If you want to at least try for someone with a dick, avoid the 18 to 25 demographic like the plague. Especially if they’re already living in Williamsburg, which means they probably haven’t worked very hard to do so.
Granted, it’s much simpler to date a girl without a personality. You don’t have to try to find things to talk about other than what’s on TV and you can always feel confident that you’ll be dressed better than her. No muss, no fuss. However, this easy way out, so to speak, shows a strong sign of dicklessness.
If you’re missing a dick, this could be the girl for you.
Though bland women aren’t without their perks (for instance, they probably have perfectly symmetrical tits), to become seriously involved with one proves utterly unchallenging to your brain and your wang. All they want to do is whatever you want to do, permitted they can eat a salad at some point during the course of your activities. This tends to be the dream of many Williamsburg men, who just want time for their “art.” But if you want to take the first step toward growing your dick back, try going for a more complicated woman the next time around (even if the level of complexity starts at her not living in Williamsburg).
While OKCupid is pretty embarrassing (as we’ve discussed before), it can’t compare to the utter shame I feel for men who freely use How About We and propose gay (in the purest sense of the word) date ideas like going to Berry Park and listening to some bull shit DJ. It’s a very unabashed form of wanton behavior that also showcases how banal your interests are.
And while women should be equally as ashamed to partake of this service, it is somewhat expected for them to be on this level of desperation considering the unfathomable female to male ratio in New York. Because men in Williamsburg are undercover lazy, How About We (based in nearby Dumbo) is a way for them to prove how smart, attentive and considerate they are. But really, it’s just a more elaborate way to procure some vagina for the night.
OKCupid as a concept is already rather comical, though somewhat understandable for a generation of lazies who can’t be bothered with a real encounter. But when men actually use OKCupid in the hope of piecing together a “genuine” relationship, well, it’s just quite sad. To think that the girl you’re going out with is doing so for anything other than a free dinner is not just naive, but perhaps a sign that you’re a dullard. Although Williamsburg is getting to the point where it’s so edgeless that eHarmony is probably to become the more frequently used dating website than OKCupid, it’s important for dickless men to know that they’re being taken advantage of for their pockets. So just get a pocket pussy instead.