GET OFF MY LAWN
A Grumpy Old Guy Shits On Slut-Shaming
Part Three of the Grouch Chronicles

How much should a woman’s sexual history matter to a man? Dumb question.
Consider Desirée in accounting. Word is, she’s unveiled her prized Georgia O’Keefe to 100 dudes in the last five years. Definitely slut territory, right? Every man, woman, and child should be judging her.
Hold on there, Sparky. Before you email that super funny Incel cum-dumpster joke, let’s do some math.
Five years is a little under 2000 days, and her legs go on for every goddamn one of them. Her smile makes gay men and straight women ask themselves serious questions. She can administer CPR with her neckline. Over Zoom.
Based on this information, I calculate a hundred partners is — let’s see, multiply this, carry that — maybe 1% of the men she could have had.
What, you thought it was impossible to be offered sex every day? You’re right, it’s way more often. Willing men are harder to avoid than to find. She’s at her desk right now instead of in the storeroom bent over a case of toner cartridges strictly as a matter of preference.
But it isn’t just the “hot” girls.
Every guy you met has been trying to fuck you. That’s right. Women are offered dick every day…every time a man’s being nice to you all he’s doing is offering dick. That’s all it is. “Can I get that for you? How about some dick?” ~ Chris Rock
Do you guys ever stop to think how exhausting it must be, getting harassed for being “fuckable” or ridiculed for not? And where’s the line between slut and prude? Go ahead, I’ll wait. Dating is so easy for guys. When’s the right time to reach first base, second, third, home? Duh, as soon as she lets you. Courtship for dummies.
We’re so obnoxious, you should call it a win every time you take a woman in your arms and get a kiss instead of a junk shot. Maybe not even for something you did, just taking out her frustration on the nearest cock. But probably something you did.
Their lives are not like ours. Put a bunch of guys in a bar and add any woman chosen at random. She won’t have to go home alone. The offers might start before the door closes behind her, or not until closing time. Maybe she can wait for Mr. Right, or have to set the bar too low for a professional limbo dancer. But there’s somebody.
Guys are celibate when they don’t have options. A celibate woman is just one who doesn’t like hers. So, Purity Boy, ask yourself this — have you turned down 99% of the women willing to fuck you? Didn’t think so. How about half? Any?
Who’s the slut now, dickhead?
Give me Desirée-level options back in the day and I’d have had 100 notches in my bedpost, too. Per year. Maybe some months. Between you and me, I don’t think I’d have handled it responsibly. Being funny looking and socially inept saved me a lot of grief.
Wait, you still want to send that email? OK, now you’ve given the game away. How’d a big, strong, misogynistic piece of shit like you get to be so afraid of girls?
I admit the current situation is a sweet deal — sure would cut into the fun if the scarlet letter could land on you. Or are you worried if chicks have options you won’t measure up? Maybe you lie awake at night wondering about your wife’s unexplained texts and whether Junior is a 23 and Not Me situation. So why are you happy to create that problem for someone else?
“But God says…”
If your God is going to be a dick about this, then fuck him. What kind of arrogant jagoff runs around demanding his personal Invisible Man In the Sky be everybody else’s problem? Oh right, your kind. It’s a big weird world with lots of weird deities floating around. The only way we all get along is for your personal relationship with The Lord to stay personal.
You go ahead and look down on anybody you want. But if you get the urge to make someone suffer for their sins, hit yourself in the balls with a Bible until it goes away.
So delete the email, Sparky. Get off your high horse and deal with your own problems. What she sticks up her Morning Glory should matter less than the stick up your ass.
If you missed the rest of The Grouch Chronicles, here you go.






