Dating Indonesian Girls
Apr 4th, 2006, in Society, by PatungDating Indonesian women may not be for everyone.
Indonesian women, particularly on the island of Java, are exceptionally beautiful. They tend towards the very feminine side, with lovely skin, are not too tall, and have knock-out smiles. There’s plenty of plus on that side of things.
If wer’e to be honest we have to recognise that many men are interested in a woman who will take care of him, do the housework without complaint, and take care of other matters similarly without much bother. Your average Indonesian girl often fits the bill in this respect, certainly more than your average western woman, the less said about them the better.
On the other hand going out with Indonesian women in a romantic way can have many mysterious pitfalls.
Some women here are clearly only interested in money. Some men are unbothered by this. Others of the female variety, can, once we get to know them very well, come across as practically insane, hysterically emotional, scheming, over-possessive, inclined to, usually fake, attempts at self-harm in order to get their way. As I said, not for the faint-hearted.
There are a few Indonesia dating websites although the area is not nearly as developed as that in nearby Phillipines or Thailand. To begin your online journey on the Indonesian dating scene our very own “Meet” section has many a lady eager for company.
4,898 Comments on “Dating Indonesian Girls”
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deta says:
I don’t know, Nay, the only thing sounds pretty accurate in the story is the measurement of his belly.
But if it is real, then good luck, may the gecko be on his side next time.
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bonni says:
Deta,
I don’t know, Nay, the only thing sounds pretty accurate in the story is the measurement of his belly.
LOL you brighten up my day, deta! 😀 Although the other things also seems pretty accurate (that he was not so lucky enough), only a little bit “lebay”… 🙂
Anyone please help muhammad asif!!!
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balipoet says:
@Deta & Bonni
re: “the only thing sounds pretty accurate in the story is the measurement of his belly”I think self-deprecating humor is beyond your scope (or put more fairly, beyond th compass of ‘non-native English speakers’) smug in the delusion of their hipster fluency. Yup, it’s true I haven’t seen my penis when I pee on the ‘jangan kenching di sini’ sign since the fall of Soeharto, but methinks you two Barbie wannabe are more idiotic than idiomatic. Just stick to shopping, Facebook and communicating by emoticons. That’s about your depth. You’re not gonna find a husband on this forum. You’re as transparent as a pair of stripper’s panties with runs in it.
Only a confident man can laugh at himself. Gratuitously laughing at a man laughing at himself doesn’t make you two the smartest tools in the shed – just the lamest. And for God’s sake either help that gadfly Muhammad Asif or step on his f*cking glasses. I don’t want him coming around until Idul Fitri for another handout. -
Balipoet,
I was just saying deta’s post was funny… LOL 😛 Easy mister, easy… 🙂 🙂 You haven’t seen your penis when you pee, but you’ve been using it anyway… 😉 😉 (communicating to you by emoticon)
P.S: Please add me on facebook, so you can check out my updates, what I do, where I do, and when I do, I guarantee no louis vuitton or latest blackberry are involved, I might be the one for you… 😉
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Bad to the Bone says:
Balipoet
self deprecating humor seems to be a thing of the past.
most bod’s now days are too up themselves.
bob dylan did a song a song the ‘ disease of conceit’, it could be about a few of the bules posting here recently.
i enjoyed your 1st post, can’t say i approved of it. but i was able to read between the lines with the 2nd post & you seem like a guy just enjoying life & also maybe Indo.
As for the other half empty glass types they should go back to their own countries where theres no shortage of woman with ‘ light bending arses’.
keep it real folks -
Lomboksurfer says:
Its all the same insane – only the names change – charging fast past deranged – its all the same insane – only the pain changes – repeating cast most arranged – its all the same insane – only the names change – urging posts quoting host – its all the same insane – only the games change….
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Nay says:
Well, the problem is that I at one point did want to marry an Indonesian women, until I noticed a rather disturbing trend.
The problem is that the ladies always tend to throw somebody white like me into the “potential husband” category, and with that the laides’ behaviour magically *changed* and it was not to my liking.
In sight of a pay day, and the excuse to get that “when are you getting married?” issue off their backs, the girls would start trying to prove to me very hard that they were “good girls” (I prefer the so called “bad girls”) who didn’t have sex until marriage (this doesn’t help me), and who were religiously pious (I don’t care about this). Of course to achieve this illusion they would have to lie like hell thinking that I wouldn’t spot the bullshit (which I always did), and unfortunately lies aren’t a good foundation for a relationship.So, it took me a while to learn that being a one-track dirty-minded bule was really the only way to go. I would have to destroy any possibility in her mind of being husband material. Once I had successfully destroyed my “serious relationship” potential, she would actually drop the act and STOP LYING. Additionally she would then drop her act and revert to the “bad” girl, sexual nympho that she always was.
This worked out better.
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Balipoet, you’re just too familiar to be true. Looking forward to more and more of your craziness. This thread has been quiet since that fall of Soeharto. Grrrrr!
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O.K. Deta. I gotcha’ where I want you. It feels so good you can’t stop reading…
The Bitch Parade: 12 Indonesian Girls I’ve Slept With – but who’s keeping count…
Purtri – You were my first campung girl and you said I was your first Bule. Fast forward three years and I am a few too many girl’s ‘first’ Bule. What are we — an endangered species? We’re as common as Gado-Gado. Statistically impossible. Yup, you girls have been known to gild the lily. How do you tell when an Indonesian girl is lying? Easy. She’s moving her lips. O.K., I exaggerate a little. Waddyagonnado? Sue me? I’ll bribe the judge first. I know people who know people. It’s called Facebook. Anyhowz, thanx Putri for leading me to believe I was your first. I thrive on delusion and Ben & Jerry’s. You can take my take my Chunky Monkey from me but keep your grubby hands off my delusions. BTW, nice rack. Thanks for the mammaries.
Indra – WTF!!! You were so ugly if you went into a haunted house you’d with a job application. Having sex with you was like wraslin’ a gator (perhaps the only appropriate sex for a buaya darat like myself). Thanks Bintang for the goggles. From now on I’m sticking to coke and tequila shots off bar girls. If I wake up short a wallet at least I don’t wake up with f*cking regrets.
Maya – What a slut! (gay people must say those words with a Bette Davis accent). I would narrow down her preference to Bules, policemen and — the remainder of Southeast Asia. At first I thought it was just Caucasians but then I found out why there was so much free bakso in her house and a Taxi always waiting outside her door. If your pussy had a meter you’d be richer than Bill Gates. When I think I’ve indirectly slept with everyone who slept with you, I feel inclined to run for President. Thanx for the STDs. And the BJs. Hoover has nothing on you, girl. Keep it up!
Dion – There have actually been three Dions. It’s not their given name but one Indonesian girls assume because they think it’s elegant or fashionable. I’ve also noticed many Moslem girls even wear crosses as a fashion statement. If Jesus was tossed in a wood chipper instead of being crucified they’d probably wear a wood chipper on their neck. If I became a martyr I want to die doing a 69. That would make some awesome jewelry. Getting back to Dion, you ‘no speakie dee Ingris’ too good. You could count dogs up to ten and you were what we dudes call a ‘screamer’. Multiple, multiple loud orgasms. I’m half-chubbed just thinking about you. I should’ve married you and just compartmentalized my other needs. You went back to Balikpapan at you father’s behest and, no doubt, married someone in drilling.
Dion – Cute, petite, darker skinned than most and with an odd sexual hangup — you didn’t want to do it doggie style. What is this with Moslems and dogs! (Maaf, I don’t mean that pejoratively.) Missionary position is for Christian missionaries who have more hang-ups than a cloakroom. You were a hypocrite and loved my K-9-lingus — but you didn’t reciprocate. Bad dog! Unfortunately, you are the only woman who stole from me and disappeared after living in my house for 10 weeks. I’m used to Indonesian girls stealing from me in front of my face by asking for my Visa. They call it ‘being treated like a princess.’ I call it ‘buying pussy on a lay-away-plan’. I can play the willing victim game. A year later I heard you married a Bule and had a baby. You’re gonna bank more from that poor shmuck than just my netbook and a camera. You’ll walk away with his property – and a boy that will remind you of the man you hate your ex) for the rest of your miserable like.
Dion – You had a nice ass like a Bell Jar — and were twice as nuts as Sylvia Plath. You’re the type that when you’re dumped threatens to kill yourself. At first I was genuinely concerned, not as bf/gf thing but as one human being to another and gave her a sincere ‘everything will be all right’ spiel and ‘call me anytime I’m here to help’ but after a few days of nurturing her neediness I realized that this is one of the classic Indonesian girl ploys – when faked orgasms and phony ‘I love you’s’ don’t do the trick, resort to back-up plan B: guilt (back-up plan C is pregnancy — be patient, it’s coming). You Machiavellian manipulations pissed me off to no end! Next day I had my driver drop off a can of Baygon and a box of racun tikus (rat poison) to your apartment with a short note: ‘Helps to get rid of pests’. Funny, all of a sudden suicide was off the table and you stopped bothering me.
Farah – You were young, college educated, sexy, seductive – the total package. You applied for a job as my PA and we continued the interview in my bed for the next 36 hours. Incredible sex. Witty conversation. Perfect, right? The search for a soulmate should end here. I wrote this poem the next day and everything will become illuminated.
The Tree of Knowledge
Farah, you mouth sinuously inched up my spar,
rigged with fragrance and finesse, the flag
of my armada risen with intent to the engage
your piracy; you have me at a disadvantage, dear,
my vigilance surrendered to the whimsy of distraction,
you’ve boarded me thoroughly, pigged out in my galleys
leaving upon my Persian rug and cat a trail of crumbs,
a flimsy dress, a push-up bra, a thong or two, and not sated,
you made of me a meal, drinks included, your flair for fireworks
five times had me shooting a canon of brilliant light
to the roof of my head, decanting into a parasol of sparks,
you took me prisoner, a slave chained to your oars, rowing,
rowing, rowing, with only the rhythm of the rippling waves
and the labor of my lungs until, bone-weary, I fell into the calm
of welcome sleep, and when daylight yawned through the slit
of blinds I arose again and studied your slumberous pose,
your exotic Asian face, trifling breasts and curious lack of hips,
and began again my odyssey of lips to lips, to ears, to eyes,
circling in gentle bites and kisses upon the arbor of your neck
until my sensuous circuit ended in rough surprise upon your
bulging Adam’s apple.
“Yo’ Farah! What the f*ck?!!!”Expats, Indo-Babes and Cuntreymen, the best sex, banter and soulmate communion I have ever had in Indonesia – thus far – has been with a transsexual. Thankfully, a post-op transsexual – but dudes, she was a dude! How was I to know? What am I – the Gender Police who asks for her KTP and performs an Adam’s apple check prior to penetration? It didn’t remotely dawn on me as a possibility. I chalk it up to life experience and at least have the courage to admit it and not regret it.
Now, I wonder how many of you have guys the courage to admit to a similar f*ck-up? It’s all too common in Asia. If you had a one night stand that seemed too good to be true – I hate to be the one to break the news — it probably was!To be continued…this Niggaz got laundry to do. You pass the ball, girl.
A’ight -
Wow, I think the material from you alone is enough to write a thesis, balipoet. Or should I say… Beryl?
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Deta,
Let balipoet curhat here… I’m enjoying his story so far especially about the tranny… 😀
Mister balipoet,
Go ahead with your story mister…
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Deta, I am impressed beyond words at your awesome Googling skillz (coming up with ‘Beryl’). So, henceforth, I decree you shall be ‘honored’ – (notice the correct American spelling; the Brits stick a gratuitous ‘u’ in everything because they can’t take responsibility for anything and blame everything on the ‘bloody immigrants’) – honored with sorting my laundry. I don’t mean coloured and whites. I’m not playing the racial card. I mean alphabetically sorted. Everytime you err, e.g., by mistaking ‘P’ants for ‘T’rousers, you will be spanked in a proper British fashion, with the business end of a Ping Pong paddle swaddled in greasy newsprint removed from a codfish with just a drizzle of virgin in olive oil.
And you, me Bonni lass with the fetching ass, I finished the f*cking tranny story. Obviously, you have problems with closure. What do you want me do, ‘drag’ it on endlessly. I can help you with that closure problem when you visit me in Bali. Bring KY and a spatula. No, not KY the Vietnamese ecstasy dealer, I mean KY the sex lube. What’s the spatula for? Well, your besty Deta already bogarted the Ping Pong paddle. You have to learn to improvise, like when Hakuna Matata was stuck on a blind date with a pig and learned to make do with makin’ bacon. Bonni, pay attention. I need you to be a whore in the kitchen and a gourmet in the bedroom. No, I’m not dyslexic – I’m just a man who know what he wants and knows everything’s better with whip cream and Midieval costumes.
Just keeping it kinky for y’allz until my next installment of (cue, big Hollywood titles/swellng soundtrack): THE PARADE OF BITCHES… -
Balipoet,
Do not tell me what to do. You and your lame bitches – as you said – are sad sad story, which I’m sorry, it doesn’t apply to every indonesian girls. I don’t date guys who dated girls from the karaoke place near you, with all my respect to them and their ‘career’. I mean seriously, mister, control your penis. I am looking forward to the Bali-poeta
Parade story next chapter. Bring it on!Deta,
Don’t you think farah deserves better?
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honored with sorting my laundry. I don’t mean coloured and whites. I’m not playing the racial card. I mean alphabetically sorted.
This is exactly what happens when a man watching too much of Sesame Street.
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which I’m sorry, it doesn’t apply to every indonesian girls.
ah… but you see… these girls who don’t apply just fall off the “bule radar”… or the “buldar” 😉
I don’t date guys who dated girls from the karaoke place near you
but do you know some lovely lady who does?
otherwise you might not be picked up on the “buldar”I mean seriously, mister, control your penis.
but why? (and how!)
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To Deta’s suggestion I write a thesis and for Bonni (and the countless other Indo-Babes on this thread making similar protests that the negative things the expats are saying “doesn’t apply to every Indonesian girl,” I shall oblige y’all with a lecture on stereotyping.
Evolution (not the Journey tribute band but the Darwinian theory that states we descended from apes, except for the new breed of android-pats that have evolved from ATM machines according to the bitches of J-town) says we must adapt to survive. So we’ve got to process information quickly. As early man walked through the primeval rainforest (like Northern Sumatra until Exxon murdered the last three orangutans last year and gave $300,000,000 in bribes to the generals) he had to navigate a hostile landscape and quickly scope out the situation. ‘Mango good’…’Raptor bad’…’Bottled water good’…’Tap water bad’…‘Pussy good’…‘Pussy good’…‘Pussy good’…‘Pussy good’. Yes, even early man had a one track mind that got caught in a rut. If he got caught with his gourd off he became a tasty morsel for the saber tooth tigers who hung outside his cave crib for Stegosaurus scraps and Cartoon Channel reruns of The Flintstones.
Fast forward a gazillion and three years (that figure has been carbon dated and verified) and modern man, basically a Neanderthal in an Armani suit, still calls the shots. Enter Mr. Alan C. Routh, Senior Vice President of Gas & Power Marketing at ExxonMobil Oil Indonesia, Inc. He sits behind his desk diddling his one eyed snake while watching porn (not blocked by the lame Telkom censor because his IT geek changed his ISP provider) in a J-town steel and glass office tower reflected in the glass of the identical J-town steel and glass office tower across the street. He’s married and has 2.3 kids. Two are in private schools and .3 are in Catholic school, ostensibly diminished by the concept of the Trinity, a throwback to polytheism (sorry Brahma-Vishnu-Shiva). His Indonesian secretary, Ratna, comes in bearing a cup of Java and an ass exquisitely tightened by Yoga and spinning classes. She hasn’t eaten a carb since Gus Dur mistook his toaster for a telephone and burned his head off. Ratna has become an expert at dicktation and has risen from the secretarial pool to the title of Head Executive Sexretary. I’m not going to go into voyeuristic detail (which Bonni lives on). What happens on the boardroom table stays on the boardroom table — after a good scrubbing and disinfection. But on an evolutionary level, despite all this clatter about free will, like Mr. Alan C. Routh we guys are all bitches to our DNA. We’re just not as well dressed. And like Ratna, all Indonesian woman like money, security, blue eyed babies and the weight of a good smelling expat upon them.
Notice, by using the word ‘all’ I’m stereotyping. Stereotyping is an adaptive mechanism, a shortcut through the machet (traffic) that permits an expat, newly transplanted into a possibly hostile environment to navigate through the unfamiliarity that is Indonesia for the sake of survival and self-interest or, to use another alliteration for rhetorical emphasis, in the name of self-preservation and pleasure. Our hunting instincts, numbed by living in the surfeit of Western civilization, here becomes freshly honed to deal with our sexual hunger and our tasty prey, Indonesian women, who are equally guided by survival instincts and peculiar agendas. In this vast shadowplay, we live out our archetypal stories of love, honor, family, betrayal, revenge, conquest, money, power and sex. The great Dhalang (puppet master) is not Sukarno as you were led to believe. The great Dhalang is simply our DNA.
Let’s first examine some of the positive and negative stereotypes about Indonesian women. Only when we fully comprehend the ramifications of these stereotypes and then filter out the ones that are gender specific, eliminating from our test sample the universal prejudices that all men have about all women, can we come up with the unique character of the Indo-babe (INB). That’s right homies and peeps, I’m not just a meth dealer and humorist, I’m a social-anthropologist and expert on raunch feminism and bad bakso. Here are my credentials:
http://www.e-poetryinmotion.com/comedy/Beyond-Classification/Celebrity-Cunts.htmlLet the stereotypes begin…
Fearful/Superstitious (Me: ‘No, that’s not a hantu (ghost) under the bed. It’s just my underwear…No, it’s your underwear from last June. If you’d clean up for a change there would be less ghosts.’)
Neurotic (Me: ‘I told you three times already – you don’t look fat in that dress but if I were you I’d lay off the blueberry cheesecake from Breadtalk a bit.’)
Extroverted (mostly +)
Conscientious (+)
Warm & Friendly (+)
Lazy (malas!)
Live for today (Me: ‘So that’s why shampoo comes in tiny sizes. I got it!’)
Not big planners (She: ‘Just because it’s rainy season in Jakarta – who knew to take an umbrella.’)
Religious (+ & -)
Family oriented (+ if you enjoy supporting 200 slackers)
Supportive (Me: ‘Especially when you dress up like a barely legal cheerleader in roleplay.’)
Rarely on time Me: ‘So why the f*ck do you need that diamond Rolex.’)
Smile for the wrong reason (Me: ‘You really don’t understand what I’m talking about.’)
Laugh for the wrong reason (Me: ‘You really don’t understand 90% of my jokes. You’re just trying to humor me with that laugh of yours.’)
Polite (+ but – when used passive aggressively)
Use feeling not logic (She: ‘You know, I don’t have a good feeling about doing the logical thing.’)
Hypocritical (She: ‘When I told you to give that blind man something I didn’t mean 100,000 rupiah. He can’t tell the difference!’)
Unwilling to break ‘bad news’ (She: ‘Thank you so much for loaning me your BMW. You know truck drivers don’t know how to drive. They are so reckless…’)
Unwilling to confront ‘bad news’ (Me: ‘Honey, I think we’re a terrible match for each other and have to part ways.’ She: ‘So what restaurant are we going to tonight?’)
Can’t swim (Fact: 1/3 of my dates have drowned on Kuta beach)To be continued…
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Nay,
Tell me more about that “bule radar” aka “buldar” LOL
Balipoet,
I don’t know why but I enjoy reading your posts so much…
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Lombok ‘Its all the same insane – only the names change – charging fast past deranged – its all the same insane – only the pain changes – repeating cast most arranged – its all the same insane – only the names change – urging posts quoting host – its all the same insane – only the games change….’
thought the same for a while–ho hum
maybe you’re the true Bali poet -
The usual –intellectual superiority, gayness, warped logic, shock jock topic, ‘Bazza goes to Bali’, Casanova stories/fables. Just some Walter Mitty geyser in England, whose soulmate is a Stephen Hawkins clone charging around his imagination in a600cc wheelchair with his hand forever covering his dick & lamenting how small it is & that he’ll never be able to use it tosatify a woman. Getting his jollies off real people who can actually have a screw & enjoy it to the max.
sad mutha f–ker
Etty–to get a proper perspective on bules & Indonesian women – read all the posts, & take the negative ‘loser’ posts with a grain of salt & a pinch of wisdom. -
Lombok–You can’t blame a guy 4 wanting to have fun, even if he does windup/piss off a shitload of people up.
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berlian biru says:
Thoroughly enjoying this thread, kudos to Balipoet.
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I just discovered this forum a few days ago and am here to simply enlighten from my experience (this is only my 37th year coming to Indonesia; I’m a resident now) and entertain with, what I’m told by the consensus of many, is a very unique sense of humor and out of the box thinking that avoids cliché because I actually enjoy the challenge of thinking. I’m an artist living in Ubud and have had to fortune to meet many women and even the worst of these experiences I can sublimate into art, poetry and humor. None have been a waste of my time. They are all a source of inspiration for me.
My art (32,000 pageviews): balipoet.deviantart.com
My poetry and humor: http://www.e-poetryinmotion.com
I’ve been to 94 countries — 50 by age 20. I did an overland trip from Laos to Tibet just 2 years ago. So much for your theory of a dreamer in a 600cc wheelchair. I have tats and played the bad boy on the Hareley – just to expand my life experience because that’s all we take to the grave. The iPhone stays behind.What can I say about Bad to the Bone’s bad to the bone mudslinging? Obviously you have major inadequacy issues (one only sees ‘superiority’ when there’s the conspicuous absence) and haven’t even the marginal intelligence to even figure out I’m an American and not a Brit (Walter Mitty geyser in England – nigga pullllleze!). Come on, that was a no-brainer. Now, remind me, Indo-Babes, who are those people famous for their stupidity who come to your country to get drunk, surf, screw the locals, treat women like shit and turned South Bali into a pubcrawl, cesspool and whorehouse? That’s right — Aussies – but let’s not make this personal so drop the ‘u’ and the ‘I’ which leaves you with…Asses. And speaking of DNA, what can you expect from an ancestral gene pool of convicts, murderers, rapists, con men who think with their dicks. That’s why Australia was a ‘penal’ colony for the British. Yeah, loser, that was a low blow dissing yo moma, and yo moma’s moma – I’m sure you’ve screwed them and your sister to keep those prized sheep genes in the family.
Let’s cut to the chase. The spotlight’s on you. Make people laugh. You’re not allowed to pull down your knickers and hand people a magnifying glass and tweezers to examine your penis. That’s too easy. There’s a reason they named you bad to the ‘bone’ because one they saw that chile pepper of yours they knew there was no redemption.
Write something intelligent and humorous – even mildly entertaining. That’s called a ‘pissing contest’ for real men – not boys like you.
As they say where I (originally) come from (New York), ‘Bring it on bitch…take your best shot!’Disclaimer: Every nasty thing I just said about Oz only applies to this little wanker.
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timdog says:
Mister David,
Care to drop in for a moment, to tantalise us with just a smidgen of nudge-nudge-wink-winking on the topic of balipoet’s IP address? That “bali” in the name wouldn’t be one of those pengalih perhatian now would it?Jeezus, I’m coming over a bit Patrick here, but still… could it be?
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When the Republican’s finally realized they were going to lose the last Presidential election, they created a misinformation rumor campaign that questioned Obama’s constitutional eligibility to serve as President in the absence of producing a birth certificate. (To be the US President you have to be born in America; citizenship doesn’t cut it).
Obama replied, “”I can’t spend all my time with my birth certificate plastered on my forehead. The facts are the facts.”
Despite the fact that that Nigga still owes me $5, I have to go with a paraphrase of the Obama indignant answer.
“I can’t spend all my time with my IP plastered on my penis. The facts are the facts.”
When you examine my penis closely, the IP reads:
A S O S I A S I P
However, when I’m bedding one of the nubiles from my shameless Parade of Bitches, the IP reads:
A S O S I A S I P E N Y E L E N G G A R A J A S A I N T E R N E T I N D O N E S I AThe only pengalih perhatian here is the one you create by the mere suggestion of smoke and mirrors, Dr. Goebbels. I am an expert of misinformation rhetoric. Like if I were to say, “I strongly deny the rumors that my opposing candidate, Timdawg, is a pederast. There’s not a smidgeon of truth in it!”
What do people walk away with? “Timdawg is a pederast?!” Get the point.
I realize I haven’t made a lot of Aussie friends here, but I’m not the one who f*cked Mary’s Little Lamb and polluted the gene pool. -
those people famous for their stupidity who come to your country to get drunk, surf, screw the locals, treat women like shit and turned South Bali into a pubcrawl, cesspool and whorehouse? That’s right — Aussies
No argument there. Aussies are the white-trash of Asia. Australia is a lovely place, mind you, except everything there will kill you. Including the locals.
Pretty soon the Chinese will own all the wealth there and leave the whiteys in a similar position to the natives in Indonesia. Already the place is starting to resemble Singapore more and more. It is a nanny-state du jour. The place is run by some hippie homosexual lefties who want to save the world’s environment by themselves, help every single refugee get a free pass, destroy the cattle industry to prevent animals dying, police the internet, legalize gay marriage (despite there being ample contract laws to get the same effect as to what they’re asking) and build a strong economy…. blissfully unaware that in order to achieve their utopian goals, they need to become bigger facists than Hitler and twice as evil.
What does Ronald McDonald and the Australian government have in common?
They are both run by red-headed clowns!
(but everyone at least like Ronald McDonald!)But yes,… Aussies in Bali. A place where bogans and a rabid media can order the Australian government to bully Indonesia to change it’s drug laws. This is only possible because drug taking unemployed people consist of the majority who voted in the current excuse for a government.
Tell me more about that “bule radar” aka “buldar” LOL
Nobody likes generalizations or stereotypes. There’s always someone who is going to say “but not every girl is like that!”… and thank goodness.
Stereotypes are useful, in the same way that odds and percentages are useful.
If I have a model of how *most* women behave, then I can play the odds. A little like blackjack. Yes I may fail 3 times out of 10 with the women who are “not like that”… but in the big scheme of things these women do not matter and “fall off the radar.” I win more times than I lose, and this is where stereotypes are statistically useful.Yes, every woman wants to feel special… and the reason why she wants to feel it so much is because deep down she knows that there are MANY others that could sway me just as easily. Thing is, women are so flippant as to be unreliable with their constant chopping and changing of relationships, loyalties, and emotions, that us men are already aware that we are as replacable as piston rods in the grand scheme of things.We don’t get to “feel special”. We have to do it for ourselves, because women certainly aren’t going to do it.
Doing this ourselves means playing a bit of a numbers game with the ladies. Dating lots of women and making them feel special about themselves, and suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous statistics means that like a wall street trader, as long as we are right more times than we are wrong, we still end up with a healthy trading profit.
Even if a man has a 1 in 10 success rate with the ladies, that’s still 10 girlfriends from 100 women…and that’s even if he is hopeless and has a miniscule appendage.Every good playboy knows the axiom that “difficult women stay difficult”.
Special flowers who claim to be “not that kind of girl” can be dropped off the radar of my attention so I can concentrate on the other cold-call prospects who ARE that kind of girl. Knowing the stats, I can accept a statistical “loss” and this in turn increases my efficiency. 😉Women would like to think that they are part of a “sexual cartel” in which every woman signs up on to ensure that all men wait for marriage before allowing sex, and not to give it out beforehand. If you ladies truly believe that this is the case, well unfortunately I have to tell you that quite a number of women are being disloyal behind your back as ruining it for you 😉
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Some of the going off in all the wrong directions stuff is no longer with us here; ip addresses, rather too pre-occupied admiring the beauty and appalling dress sense of australian women atm to be looking at that sort of thing, I hope to be back on deck at some indeterminate point.
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bojog says:
Indo-Babe Stereotypes continued:
Lotus Blossom China Doll Babes (He: ‘Are you just going to sit there all day watching TV’. She: ‘First of all it’s not TV it’s HBO. Secondly, you have no idea how much work it takes to look this good FOR YOU.’)
Golddigging Opportunistic Dragon Ladies (any further explanation is redundant)
Helpless Victim in Need of Rescue (She: ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He: ‘No big deal.’ She: ‘My poor mom needs an operation and has no money. And my brother needs a job. And my cousin…’)
Devil with a Red Dress on & Matching Accessories (He: ‘Where’s my wallet?!’ She: ‘Hell if I know.’)
Hysterical Madame Butterfly (She: ‘I’m going to kill myself if you leave me! BTW, my rent is due.’)
I Love You Long Time Ho (She: ‘Your 15 minutes are up. You no pay, you no stay!’)
Homewrecker (He: ‘Hey! Why did you text my wife!’ She: ‘Sorry, I didn’t know where you were.’)
Takers not Givers (She: ‘Gimme an iPad, iPhone, iPod…’ Me: ‘What do I get?’ She: iDon’tgiveashit’)
To be continued…
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And I suppose bojog = balipoet? LOL
I love aussies, aussies are the best… 🙂
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@bonni – Ya baby that they may be and I love bloody blonde Swedish girls too but I dont have Tiger Woods bloody pockets so my bloody guess is that we will be sluming together love 🙂
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I’m pretty sure it’s accurate. 😉