We’ve all been phased out by someone or another in our lives. It’s even happened to Regina George. No matter how amazing you think you are, there’s invariably going to someone els who doesn’t. These people are usually men. When a man is done with you, or rather, with fucking you, his method of expressing this sentiment is to cease communication with you altogether.
The most notorious and blunt phase out
While some men argue that there’s no better way to go about eradicating someone he’s no longer interested in his life, there is a statute of limitations on how callous you can be about it. So long as “men” exist and thrive in the Cenozoic era, the phase out will always be here to torture women and force them to wonder what they did wrong. For the Williamsburgian “man,” however, the phase out can easily come back to bite you in the ass, seeing that the Wburg radius is incredibly petite and the bar scene is a cess pool of the same people. With this in mind, I don’t recommend the phase out unless you can assure its success by switching neighborhoods altogether.
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.
There are a lot of people who fall into the BuzzFeed k-hole. Those people are usually office workers or girls missing a portion of their frontal lobe. So when you catch a “man” trolling the BuzzFeed website, it can serve as something of a red flag.
One of limitless inane quizzes that a “man” should not feel comfortable taking
There’s also something to be said for the fact that most of these quizzes are geared toward the female gender (e.g. “Which 90s Alt-Rock Grrrl Are You?”). I don’t care how bored you are in your Williamsburg startup office, there are plenty of other frivolous websites to peruse whilst you’re pretending to work. I recommend something like esquire.com. It lends a faux air of intelligence. Avoid menshealth.com if you’re making the effort to seem straight.
Sometimes, when “men” can’t make up their fucking mind, they pull the wishy washy card. This, dear readers, is no good. If we wanted something that waffled, we would go to fucking IHOP. Decisiveness is key, even if it makes you come across as an insensitive asshole.
The confident “man” would have said, “I fucking hate missingadick.com and I never want to see these posts again.”
If you’re going to be a dick, it usually tends to be a means of compensating for having a petite one. But if you must do it, just fucking be one–no apologies, no vacillation. Plus, a lot of women are attracted to that sort of thing. And, lucky for you, a female need to fortify low self-esteem runs rampant in Williamsburg.
It’s generally evident that “men” who live in Williamsburg have money, be it theirs or their parents’. What this usually means is that they’ve relied on a steady cash flow as about 95% of their personality makeup. So how does the dickless man remedy/overcompensate for being totally vanilla soft serve? By dating outside of his race.
A white man’s ticket out of Dullsville
I’m not saying that a man can’t genuinely be attracted to a woman from a disparate background, but I’m saying that the attraction is typically 75% based on novelty. Williamsburg provides the perfect outlet for a rich white man to find an ethnic woman (this especially includes Europeans and Brazilians), as the exotic types tend to be the only ones you see dancing at Output or Bembe. However, the only “man” who has pulled off the interracial dating thing with class is David Bowie. He obviously doesn’t live in Williamsburg.
There’s something to be said for a “man” who doesn’t put a premium on aesthetics. I don’t see it as a lack of discernment so much as a lack of vanity and self-inflated ego. Because, honestly, who the fuck do you think you are to deserve someone of a manic pixie dream girl caliber? You’re probably a toad yourself.
Most men be like “hot bitch or nothing”
With this in mind, it seems a bit absurd to deny whatever’s left of your dick the healthy and essential practice of releasing semen. It’s really your own fault if you rely solely on masturbation as a primary form of discharge. I get that you live in Williamsburg and you were expecting every prospect thrown your way to be attractive, but instead you’ve found that only the people who work at Dunkin’ Donuts and Tasti D-Lite are interested in you. So what? You should just go for it. Just ignore that bubbly mole or deflated breast. If you close your eyes, you can picture anything, even living in a deluxe condo.
For once on Missing A Dick, “little things” does not refer to the size of your penis. In this instance, it hints at “men’s” inability to comprehend that it’s the subtle signs of showing you care that prove you have some semblance of a cock–holding the door, walking next to your lady instead of ahead, waiting for her even if she takes a Marilyn Monroe amount of time to get ready, etc.
Side note: Do not do the little things grudgingly, but with sincerity
To bypass the little things in favor of your own selfish, blacked out pursuits is to display a level of castration on par with Napoleon (Bonaparte, not Dynamite). Although Williamsburg is an area where “man’s” self-involvement reigns supreme, and it’s difficult to take others into consideration when you’re so busy gazing into the mirror as you grasp the area where your dick is supposed to be, try to think a bit harder next time you Irish goodbye, don’t do the dishes, give up on sex upon not experiencing instantaneous wetness, pour a cup of coffee for yourself but not for her, or generally act as though you’re a teenage boy still dependent on your mother.
It seems as though there’s some sort of disconnect between “men’s” expectations of how instantaneously a woman should get wet versus what actually goes in to getting her wet. For one to expect to be able to thrust a “dick” in and expect immediate lubrication rivals the delusional narcissism of humans once thinking the sun revolved around the earth.
Indeed, a great level of finesse is required to arouse any woman past the age of eighteen who isn’t creaming herself naturally on a regular basis. Granted, most “men” of Williamsburg prefer to date girls in this age bracket, but, should you find yourself saddled with someone age-appropriate in her twenties and above, bear in mind that giving up on getting her wet within the first one to three minutes infers an utter lack of penis. If you’re one of those dickless “men” who doesn’t eat pussy, you could at least make the effort to incorporate a little light nipple licking into the mix. It’s what Koons would have done. And we all know any Williamsburg denizen worth his weight in hipster/gentrifier stereotypes knows that emulating Koons’ sexual openness is best.
Seeing someone cry is one of the most uncomfortable and awkward visions for any gender to witness. However, “men” have a stronger predilection for fucking it up when it comes to making attempts at consolation. They either say something to make it worse or simply try to pretend it’s not happening. And even though Williamsburg is working ever harder toward the complete stamping out of emotions of its residents, there are steps you can take to react in a non-Patrick Bateman way.
All you have to do is acknowledge that the crying is happening and pretend to give even a smidgen of a shit
For those of you lacking in the dick area, the satisfactory response to a woman crying–especially if you caused it–is to not do the following: 1) pat her shoulder in a condescending manner 2) ever use the cliche “there, there” 3) accuse her of being an overreacting pussy (this will result in her not giving you any) 4) infer that she’s on her period and 5) suggest you “spend some time apart.” If you can avoid these five things, you might have a chance at a wang.
Like most fashion trends, very few ever actually go away, instead being constantly recycled when it seems like they’ve been absent long enough. One such trend in menswear is the plaid shirt, doomed to haunt us all until the day of fabric reckoning.
The plaid shirt lends no personality, therefore I never actually “see” the person wearing it
This particular “look” is designed to make any “man” who wears it look as generic as possible. It is, in fact, to “men” what florals all to women. Because “men” can be basic bitches too, and often are if they wear plaid and live in Williamsburg.