Women who wear jeans, don’t know how to cook, and spend most of their time at the club or on Facebook used to be revolutionary. Now they’re just “normies.”
Girls who wear dresses, heels, and aprons, can cook a fabulous meal from scratch, and spend most of their time tending to their man’s needs used to be an average girl. Now they’re the rebels.
There’s too many normies in today’s world. It’s time for a counter-revolution. And what’s the best place for a counter-revolution? Why, the kitchen counter, of course.
Put on a dress and a pair of heels. Tie your apron around your waist. Grab that old cookbook. Get back in the kitchen.
I went on my date night with all the girls last night. It was an absolute blast. All of the girls were dressed to the nines and looked sexy and spectacular. We all had a fabulous dinner and then some of them (Danielle, Toi, and Isabella) came home with me.
We had a great time in bed and fell asleep about 3am. It was marvelous.
Sorry I really don’t have much more to say about last night. I’m tired and don’t really feel like writing.
Danielle has been my faithful partner for well over a year now and I wanted to make our date special, so we went out of town for dinner. I had made reservations a couple of days ago.
The food was fantastic. Danielle only took about 45 minutes to get ready. The entire date was great.
Then we went back to our place and had sex and I was reminded why I chose Danielle in the first place. She’s spectacular in bed!
She gets another day off on Sunday night, so we’ll have to see if I can take her out again then.
Well, last night, I had a wonderful date with Toi. We went out to dinner together at a French/Italian restaurant here in town.
The food was spectacular. I didn’t drink wine because I’ve been trying to cut down on my alcohol consumption. Toi didn’t ask for wine and I didn’t offer it.
It was a fine date. Toi really is a dummy. She kept talking about how impressed she was with the places I choose for dinner. Once was fine, but when it came to the third time, I just told her, “Toi, shut up about how impressed you are, baby. I get it.”
We went back to my place and had great sex (she sucked me before as is her ritual). She really does have an oral fixation and she’s fabulous at sucking.
I took her home about 2:15am when I went to pick up Danielle from the restaurant.
Emily is coming with me to drop off food again today. I’m planning to have sex with her when we get back to my place. She always seems willing, so it shouldn’t be a problem. My sex drive has jumped lately, so Emily will have to bear that burden.
Last night was my first date with Jennifer in a couple of weeks.
She looked absolutely fantastic. Every time I see her, she just looks better and better.
We went out for dinner together. I had duck and she had chicken. It was a splendid meal. Then we went back to my place and had rough sex (Jennifer loves being slapped and hit). This morning, I drove her back to her place.
Then I picked up Emily. She’s off work on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, so she came with me to drop off the food to the food bank. Tonight, Toi is off work. Tomorrow night, it’s Danielle.
Some women say, “objectification of women is wrong.” Wrong? Wrong in what way? Let’s take a look at how everyone and everything – including women themselves – objectify women:
The top women’s magazines – Harper’s Bazaar, InStyle, Vogue, Cosmopolitan – all objectify women like crazy. And who are the editors and photographers in those magazines? Women.
When a woman wants to go out to “Ladies’ Night,” even though she knows very few men will be there, she dresses to the nines. She tells herself, “it’s about my confidence.” Your confidence? No, you’re objectifying yourself to be a nice thing to look at, even by other women.
Look at the explosion of the selfie. And who are taking the most selfies? Women, by far. They make sure they get the camera angle right to include their cleavage and can spend hours in front of a mirror getting ready for the perfect shot.
Women objectify themselves instinctively. They make themselves into an object for men, for other women, even for themselves.
Men don’t spend hours in front of a mirror trying to look “perfect,” or complain we have nothing to wear when we have a closet full of clothes, or want to be cat-called when we walk down the street. But women sure do. Despite how much women complain about that stuff, they need it. They have to objectify themselves to feel validated.
In 2014, Feminist Jessica Valenti hated being cat-called as she walked down the street and criticized the patriarchy for cat-calling. When it stopped, within 12 months, she lamented, “I hate that our culture makes me miss it” (Valenti, 2015). Women want to be cat-called. It reinforces their belief that they look good. It strokes their ego. It plays to their basal instincts that they’re a desirable object. They’re not cat-calling your sparkling personality or university education, sweetheart. They’re cat-calling a nice ass and pair of tits.
Objectification of women is natural for both men and women. Anything less than raw objectification of women opposes nature itself.
And, if you haven’t noticed, nature is the biggest misogynist of all.
She was much more open than before. I still wouldn’t say she was talkative, but she did talk a fair bit more than she did at the bonfire.
She looked fantastic last night. She wore a little black dress, black thigh highs, black heels and very light makeup. Her natural red lips were the highlight of her face.
After dinner, we went back to my place. Danielle was working late again last night, so we had the place to ourselves. We ended up sleeping together and I’ll tell you, shy girls will do things to you that can blow you away. She became totally uninhibited and really showed her true colours in bed. She was phenomenal.
Jennifer is off tonight, so we’re going out to dinner.
Isabella brought her friend, Emily, over last night for the bonfire. Danielle was working late.
Emily is absolutely gorgeous. Perhaps I should say she’s beyond cute. She looks like she’s 18 years old and has bright red, natural lips, black hair and brown eyes. She’s stunning.
She’s also very, very quiet. She didn’t talk much while she was here so I couldn’t really gauge whether she was into me.
After her and Isabella left, I got a text from Isabella saying that Emily was definitely into me. Heavy. I told Isabella to tell Emily I was into her, too.
Emily does not work at the restaurant (she works retail), so she won’t have late nights. That means I can take her out on dates regularly.
I’ve got her number and I’m going to call her this evening and ask her out to dinner tomorrow night.
VINTAGE IN STEPFORD™ 
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