What a location is Sean Sheep Wool Sitz
272 - The white sheep
March 23, 2015
I actually thought I could trust you.
How could I.
You told me what I wrote last week, namely that it seems that you, dear women, first have to try a few asshole men until you are willing and, above all, able to to take a nice copy by your side and walk through life with it from then on. Without a necessary asshole beforehand, the nice guys have no chance.
And then a reader writes to me, one of you, that she sees it very differently. And so: Because there are almost only asshole men and only very, very few nice ones, women inevitably first get to the men, who they can also shoot again at the moon, until they finally finally with a, let's say, acceptable male beings lands. Or to put it another way: The men form a large herd of black sheep, and only a very few white ones bleat softly around them. But if the woman were to catch one of these rare white animals the first time, she could happily do without the others. In fact, there is a good chance you will come across a black one. However, says the reader, the white sheep are mostly taken or gay. Forgive: Sure, when there are so few of them, those once caught will not be let go. Gay: Honestly, there are gay assholes too, but they are in a different herd of black sheep.
But that now leads me to a new problem: Last week I was able to put off the nice men by saying that sooner or later the women would automatically end up with them, it has now become much more difficult. Because now it is a matter of asserting yourself as a man against men. As nice to assholes. As a dear, empathetic and listening white sheep against the rabid, conspicuous and unpleasant black sheep. And it's not that easy. Because it is in the nature of the white sheep not to be so pushy, not always to push yourself to the front of the gate to be fed carrots and apples by the mini-skirted women walking by. If they did, they would lose some of what makes them white sheep. And that's why the poor white sheep will always only stand around in the back row and they have to be satisfied with the already trampled dry grass, while the asshole sheep in front munch and spit loudly and mow each other, what a horny carrot for them because it was pushed into the mouth again.
And then it is up to you, dear women, entirely up to you whether you actually have to try your way through the whole black herd until you finally come across a half-starved rib frame that you want to love from now on.
And then the following question arises to me: where, Lord God, is the good shepherd who separates the black sheep from the white, so that you, dear women, make it easier for you to choose, and we, the super cute, soft white sheep, not one Have to wait half a lifetime until we are finally petted?
And I don't even want to talk about the bad bad wolf, whether in sheep's clothing or not.
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