The Private Man

Attraction and dating information for all men

I Might Date Liz Jones

Deep breath. I am profoundly ashamed of the next few sentences I’m about to type. But at the risk of enraging feminists the world over, here goes. I want a great love. I want to disappear into the sunset with my soulmate. I want to walk down the aisle again wearing an ivory dress into the arms of my knight in shining armour.

For the whole backstory, go here.

She drank the kool-aid of female-centered emotional pornography. She fell for it. At 53, she is still looking for Prince Charming to sweep her off her feet. Seriously? Plankton to the white courtesy phone. Generation Spinster is only just getting warmed up. You go, grrls!

Fine. I’m bored. My job is interesting enough but in the evenings I need someone to tend to my sexual needs, walk my dog, and clean my humble apartment. Liz, fly across the pond and hang out with me. I’m smarter and more interesting than you so I can easily fulfill your hysterical hypergamy. Oh, and I can write you under the table… without even using adverbs.

I’m no rock star but I’m fairly popular in the village. Yeah, I know, my dog is ugly but she won’t be critical of your emotional pornography consumption. Lucy the dog loves people unconditionally, unlike you. I promise I won’t take a photo of you as you pick up her poo when you take her for walkies. It’s the least I can do. Just know that my dog might eat your romance novels. Lucy loves junk food.

Yes, I’m four years younger than you but I’m sure you’d clean up nicely with some makeup, a shortish dress (it’s warm here in South Florida), and high heels. That way, I wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen with you when we have a bit of nosh at one of the local eateries. I’ve got my standards, after all. Oh, do you like American football? Even if you don’t, just be handy and serve me and the fellas some cold brewskies while we watch the game, ta.

Seriously Liz, I’m the best you’re going to get. You’ve hit the wall. Your value in the sexual marketplace (SMP) is in the bargain basement, damaged goods section of the store. But if you’re particularly gracious and pleasant (and willing to be a tigress in bed), matrimony might be an option. Of course, I’m going to spend the engagement ring money on a pre-nup with a clause stipulating that I receive half your assets when you get bored at 60 years old and fly to Bali in the vain hope of still finding your knight in shining armor. Hey, the Private Man ain’t stupid.

Advertisements

Single Post Navigation

20 thoughts on “I Might Date Liz Jones

  1. SgrDdyBta on said:

    LMAO! Here’s another clear-thinking Man-o, Richard Lewis, who’s also got Liz’s number, over an even more outrageous (and HARD UP) “Liz Moment”:

    http://www.sabotagetimes.com/life/spunk-rustler-liz-jones-scares-us-men-to-death/

    HMOG! It’s the spinster-sperm-burglar, MR BILL! =:O

    Though flambe’d by you, and eviscerated by Mr. Lewis, my Superior Male Intuition (SMI®) tells me ol’ Liz will remain clueless as ever… bets taken at the third parimutuel window, cash only.

    PS: P-Mon, your dog is NOT ugly, but rather uber-EXOTIC! Definitely an ‘East African Hyena Hound’, used in hunting dangerous hyenas… VERY expensive breed(lol)… and also a So-Fla Babe Magnet. Being a female, I sure hope Lucy’s not picking up on any dissing-her-looks vibes from her owner… ;’)

  2. “Liz…I’m smarter and more interesting than you”

    like that’s something to boast about? You and 5-6 billion other people, I reckon

  3. Good post. I guess if I had written what you had I would have gotten bitter at the “smarter more interesting” part, as if a woman who has little to offer deserves to have her hypergamy satisfied.

    Funny she uses Madonna as an example. A woman with a very slutty past and rumor has it made a very lousy wife. No man could satisfy Madonna.

  4. Look at this picture, PM: http://img.thisismoney.co.uk/i/pix/2009/11/jonesDMO_203x150.jpg

    You may wish to reconsider the title of your post, unless you enjoy giving Liz false hope.

    • Didn’t the Man of La Mancha have a hard time differentiating windmills from giants?

      Vision impared is her best hope in men. Hard of hearing, so they don’t have to listen to her drivel, could be a shrewd move too.

      She sounds like she’s all aboard the bitter bus, with a face to match its rear end.

    • FUCK!

      She’s an old, ugly, angry feminist.

      With my luck she’ll actually show up here.

      Dammit.

  5. Dear God what an awful human being. No wonder she is single. Talk about an overinflated ego. Rock star? Aging past-his-prime rock star sleeps with over-the-hill groupie! Her Mom and Dad had a great marriage because they loved each other while knowing full well the other’s flaws. That is true love. My advice to her and all women is to find each day something in your man that you love. Don’t concentrate on what he doesn’t have, just what he does have. Wouldn’t you want that in return?

  6. just visiting on said:

    Well, just based on the first paragraph I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps she was just willing to soften up a bit and her knight in shining armor was a well worn cliche. Until I read her article. A bit old to believe in fairy tales. The sad part is, she probably wouldn’t recognize someone capable of a great love anyways. Too spotty or something. And the “dirty dishes” of day to day relationship would probably be too mundane.

  7. AN OPEN LETTER TO LIZ JONES
    Dear Liz

    I read your article; I took it be, at least in part, “tongue in cheek”. Well, my dear, unless you want that to be the only tongue probing YOUR cheeks, you better listen to your Uncle Tom. Now. And learn. Fast.

    You yourself have identified the problem, or the majority of it. It’s the journalstic equivalent of creating a back fire. You think by identifying it yourself, to some extent exploring it, you disarm your readership and thus can continue more or less in the same vein as regards your actual, personal life. And it is probably true; you have disarmed them. Not me; I am not only NOT disarmed I am annoyed at your rhetorical device.

    The problem? “Pefectionism”. Only coming from you you make it sound like a virtue; it is not. And it isn’t perfectionsim it’s narcissism. Recall that couple you mention, the perfect one, having everything you have plus one-youth ( and I suppose a companion). What did the wife look like? How would you compare her to you facially? How about in a thong? Evening dress? You see Liz unless your (honest) answer is “compared to her, I’m an 8, she’s a 9” (I said honest) you have come the crux of the issue. The type of woman who can insist on the perfectionism you describe (looks, status, money-the lot) is her-and then only for a rather narrow length of time (there are certain exceptions-Jackie O for example, but then Ari wasn’t all that in the looks dept. was he?)

    That type of woman does not exist past 50-period. Even Madonna now looks ropey, like she got left on top of a stove, melted some, and then got put back hurriedly, leaving her a stringy, not quite completely reconstituted model of her former self. And that’s Madonna-where do you stand in comparison to her? Rather like the aforemntioned young wife I should expect.

    Now listen further you dizzy bitch.Things like “success, money, power, nice things” attract WOMEN-NOT MEN! I could not give a flying tuna fish fuck if you are the most powerful woman in NY or wherever the fuck it is you live I’ll jump over you like a goddamn kangaroo to bang a hot Dairy Queen swing shift cashiier. Rose Kennedy was rich, succesful (in her fashion), had power, had access to nice things like Kenne-whateverthe fuck even if she didn’t out right own it-and I”d as soon eat a bowling ball as go down on her dried up steelwool grey Brillo pad of a cunt patch. Men want nice pussy, and that means young pussy, and yours ain’t and no surgery will make it thus. NONE. And all the accoutrement you describe would only serve to make an honest man aware that there is something akin to a bribe afoot and thus require he pop more Cialis to perform his less than inspiring magic on you.

    Now let’s really get down to it. As i said it never WAS perfectionsim-it was narcissism. The
    man” you describe was no more than a spear carrier in your little opera, a thing that filled out your lifestyle (when I hear that word I reach for my revolver -Goebbels), to go along with your purse and your people-crushing SUV. Real men like to watch football, sports-real women, or rather real lovers, make allowances. What you look down your (probably reconstructed) nose at is the simple tranquility of an average married people. Admit that much Liz. You’re not just better than the men in your lives-your better than everyone, like all you elitists believe. Right? Or is there still a part of you unready to make that leap to the truth?

    Well here’s some truth for you Liz. It is not about “settling for less”-it’s about defining what is ESSENTIAL, making that your focus. prioritizing EVERYTHING and goddamnit Lis I mean EVERTYHING ELSE in relation to it. It’s called growing up. You never did that; I doubt you ever could and, frankly, doubt you ever will. I can just picture you walikng out of that couple’s house and saying what you said-because it’s all surface to you Liz, all of it. Say it with me-surface.

    And if you’re only going to play on the surface well, Liz, my dear, be ready to pay the price when that surface ages, as it must, and withers, as it shall, and finally crumbles, as it will.

    BTW privateman has been generous, as I have not been. He is an actual living breathing male, with all the limits, peccadilloes, small, simple pleasures that entails-the kind of man (and person) you don’t take account of as the headwaiter slides you by to a table he (and people like me) had to wait over an hour to get-you, less than a minute. I’d look into his proposal were I you.

    Or do what I hope you do and in fact know you will. Stay exactly as you are. I gauge that right now you’re probably at “Liz Jones-Mercy Fuck to the Stars”. That will last for a while with a few tucks, peels, lifts, but just about the time you’re about to get a goatee (oh wait-you probably have a brazilian, yes, it would make sense, you’re not going for that steel wool Brillo pad Rose Kennedy look are you?) you’ll begin to notice that even your Designated Fucker for the night is starting to wonder just how much erectile dysfunction medicine he can consume before he strokes out-and begs off with a head (he doesn’t specify which one) ache.

    So happy trails old girl. I guess in my phillipic I neglected to spell out the advice I promised. Grow up. Seriouslly consider what you HAVE to have in a man-make that ESSENTIAL (see above). May I suggest something? IF you find one that you know in your heart loves you and will forsake all others for you, grab him. That’s it. Tom Synder once remarked that dating/romance before 40 was all “Me Tarzan, You Jane”, but that after 40 it is, or should be, “we’re going to die anyway; we might as well love each other.” Grab him, learn to love him if you have to, and even if all you can offer is a form of intimate affection do so if he loves you , needs you, wants you. Keep him, to have and to hold.

    Even if he watches football with the shades drawn.

    guardedly

    Uncle Tom

    P. S. Should you be tempted to respond, be advised that my brief reference to your Ted Kenndey-like driving skills was only the barest tip of a very large iceburg and if you elevate me by so responding I would unload upon you such as you have never never in your privileged life been unloaded upon and in manner that will have your friends, and more importantly your enemies, quoting me to your very death bed. Challenged? Oh I hope so Lz I hope so; like the Devil said to Father Karras- “it will bring us together”. ( William Blatty’s “The Exorcist”) .

    • Senior Manchild on said:

      OUTSTANDING MUNSON

      You had me rolling on the floor with this one,

      ¨I’ll jump over you like a goddamn kangaroo to bang a hot Dairy Queen swing shift cashier¨

      or maybe I´d just prefer a Blizzard even a root-beer float.

      Oh and Privateman,

      I think your on to something alluding to Generation Spinster. The future will not be kind to a generation of women.

      • The harbingers of the demographic shift are already upon us.

        Hypergamy and 60% college graduation rate for women is going to be a hammer blow to female rationalization hamsters.

      • @theprivateman:
        women complain about the difference in salaries, not knowing that one of the ways they are attracted to a guy is through his wallet and how he can wine and dine her.
        After all, as Marc Rudov says, “What is nonsense? Income: She LOVES equality. Dating: She HATES equality”

  8. Damn I got the wrong Liz on the SUV stuff-hate it when that happens.

  9. Lmao Domt be fooled

  10. BTW the “Kangaroo” allusion came from the original “Scared Straight” documentary which aired in the late ’70s. A group of teens is taken into to Rahway (NJ prison) where inmates will confront them, telling them what’s in store for them.It was much harsher than the versions you see now-the inmates starting roughing up the camera crew, and everyone soon learned this was “the real”. There were some girls. In one scene, an inmate tells a teenage boy that he’s been locked up for 18 years “and I’ll jump over these bitches like a kangaroo to get into your sweet little bootie.”The kids eyes widen like he’s already doing it.

  11. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: January 29th, 2011 Edition

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: