I first noticed I was losing my hair when I was twenty-two, and I fell into a deep depression. I had figured things out for myself pretty well for that age, twenty fucking years ago, that you need to be a COMPLETE MAN- intellect, career, fitness- and I was working hard on achieving that... when, what I thought was the equivalent of getting cancer, or a terminal disease, hit me. I thought I'd never look good again (not true), that I'd never get attractive women again (not true), and that my sexual market value- before I knew the terminology- took a fatal hit (not true).

Distraught, and being something of a kid still, I turned to my mother for advice, and she told me: women don't care what men look like, they care about the job they have. And it only made me feel worse, because, I knew she was wrong. What about a job, in and of itself, makes a woman's pussy wet? Which was the only way I knew to get female interest- make her tingle, see that look in her eyes that we all know so well, and she's yours- going up to her to tell her that you're middle-management at corporate Staples ain't gonna cut it if you don't look good too.

But we've all heard this before from older women of the baby boomer generation- because this is the world they grew up in, the world of the marriage market.

The marriage market is where men and women are on the hunt for a serious mate to marry (till death) from the time they first become aware of the opposite sex. Therefore, in addition to finding the other person attractive (for all the same reasons men and women find each other attractive today), you had to consciously consider their long-term potential- therefore, it's conceivable that a woman would prioritize a man's career over strictly his physical aesthetic.

In considering the marriage market, femininity was something that was equally values to a woman's physical aesthetic- as was her ability to be a homemaker. This is why women were given the advice, "the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach"- or, in other words, proof of domestic competence. That advice is laughable today (I'd replace it with: "the quickest way to a male compliance is through a combination of sexual and emotional manipulation"- how far we've come! [lol]).

Through a combination of female sexual liberation via birth control, women making equal or greater pay in the workforce, anti-family media messaging, anti-male media messaging, divorce rate sky-rocketing, social taboos entirely lifted on promiscuity- and, the final nail in the coffin, online dating apps- the marriage market has been killed, deader than dead, decapitated, with everyone playing soccer with its decapitated head.

Thus we fully enter the promiscuity market (arguably there was a "relationship market" in between, before Tinder totally normalized total promiscuity, but it's kind of neither here nor there- think of it like a transitional phase).

The promiscuity market is where your job doesn't really matter, unless it's a sexy job that makes girls tingle! So, if you're "Mr. Dependable" middle-management at corporate Staples, making a darn good salary, with lots of job security... tough shit! Not sexy. No one cares. The unemployed wildman will get more pussy than you, or the badboy bartender, or the after-hours drug dealer. Being bald is not a death-knell, but your market-value will take a hit. Aesthetics, swagger, and game matter much, much more than being a stable, good, kind person who'd make a good husband.

In the promiscuity market, genetics are king, and, after that, men who are ripped, with good game, and as much sexy social clout as they can get.

It's not that women don't want to marry, but without any reason to not be ruled by their tingles, they pick bad boys to chase, and then, one day they're thirty-five ... or they got knocked up, shit happens, and they're a single mom at thirty-five.

Isn't modernity great?

Read my fuckin blog: KILL TO PARTY