Posts Tagged ‘relationships’

There is a Hasidic family in Brooklyn. The father is a member of the Puppa sect. He sells Judaica items in a Synagogue in Boro Park, Bobov. They have many children, one of them with Down’s Syndrome. One daughter got married a while back, had a few children, and unfortunately fell into a coma during childbirth roughly two years ago and died a year later. After a short while, the younger daughter approached her father in regards to a marriage proposal. Her idea?

“My late sister has children. Will her widower husband get married to a random girl who will then be entrusted with the task of raising my sisters children? We know him [late sisters husband]. Let me marry him.”

Her father told her to ask him again in 6 months time. She asked, and the wedding was on.

Sadly, today was the funeral for a different daughter, only 22 years old who just passed away. Noone deserves to lose two children. Ever.

Thoughts on the marriage?

Let’s hope for more positive news in the coming weeks.

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There was once a blog. That blogger released too much sensitive info of girls he fucked, so he shut it down. Luckily it was all copied beforehand, so we can all read his writings of genius here at solomonreborn.wordpress.com

This post expresses everything wrong, and by default kinda awesome, about American girls. One of the best posts I have ever read. I included the comments. be sure to read comment #3.

Drive Thru Boyfriends

Posted on March 21, 2011 by Dalrock

Fall 2010 by Solomon II

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, add extra self respect.  Hold the judgment and consequences please.

“I’m sorry; we’re all out of self respect.  Would you like to add a side of rationalization for only $1 more?”

“Yeah.  That’s fine.  Super size it please.”

“Thank you.  Please pull up to the window for your total.”

There she is driving down the road of life at her own pace.  She’s young, independent, beautiful and has all the time in the world.  When she’s horny, she swings into the closest drive thru and places her order.  She does the same thing when she’s sad, lonely, happy, up, down, in, out, excited, needy, afraid, strong, weak, depressed, moody, joyful, exhilarated, stressed, etc. Any and every reason is valid because she’s being “true to herself”. Every three months on average she swings into McFling’s and orders up the best looking or most exciting thing on the menu (because she’s sooo selective).  There’s also a couple of late night snack runs thrown in there for good measure, but not as many as some other girls, so you have no right to judge her.  She’s young and her metabolism is firing on all cylinders, so now is the time for her to gorge herself with no consequences.

At the age of 27, she starts to notice that her steady diet of junk food relationships isn’t as satisfying as it once was.  Sure the bright lights, flashy signs, fast service and cheap satisfaction made for great fun, but now she’s starving for wholesome affection and beginning to show signs of emotional malnutrition.  There has to be something better out there.  Something more substantive.

All of a sudden she decides to make a change.  No more drive thru boyfriends.  Certainly everyone understands that her junk food relationship binge wasn’t her fault since it’s the bulk of what society offers.  It’s our culture.  These greasy high calorie drive thru boyfriend establishments are on every corner, advertised on every channel, glamorized in the media, and no one really told her how bad they could be for her health.  It’s society’s fault.  It’s the franchise’s fault. All the girls she knows are doing it, so how could she possibly be expected to know any better?

So now she wants steak, and by God she’s convinced that she deserves it from a five star restaurant.

She takes a shower hoping the stench of her decade long habit of frequenting McFling’s won’t be as noticeable.  She may not know how to act properly at the new fancy steakhouse she’s going to try tonight, but it’s ok.  Men always give her a pass on her behavior since she’s beautiful and an easy lay adventurous.

When she’s all done getting ready and is confident that she can look and act like the type of girl who has been eating healthy all along, she heads out for the best steakhouse in town.  Why not the best?  She deserves it, and her friend Michelle ate there last week (and she’s totally not even pretty).

With all the undeserved self confidence in the world and an advanced case of juvenile egocentrism, she pulls into the parking lot of the steakhouse.  She notices there are dozens of people standing in line.  She doesn’t understand.  The stupid bitch at the hostess desk asked her if she had a reservation.  A reservation?!  How rude!  She has a vagina and that’s always been sufficient before, so what gives?  It seems the steakhouse is completely booked for months.

Now she’s pissed off.  How could the upscale steakhouse refuse to seat her?  So what if she showed up right at prime dinner time (27 years old o’clock) and demanded the best seat in the house.  She deserves it.  She’s waited so long for it… well, not really, but in theory anyway.  She always knew the steakhouse was there, she just never took the time to plan ahead for reservations.  It’s not her fault.

As she drives away, she realizes she has another problem.  She’s still hungry.  She pulls in to yet another McFling’s, this time disgusted to be there.  But she’s changed, so she decides to try something different.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Uh, yes.  I’ll have the steak please.”

“We don’t serve steak.  Show me your tits.”

“I’m not like that anymore.  Steak please.”

“I can offer you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, and pretend to hold the judgment and consequences if you’d like.”

“Steak please.”

“Bitch, would you like me to serve you the three months of meaningless sex from the Boyfriend Lite menu, pretend to hold the judgment and consequences, and just *tell you* it’s steak?”

“Steak please.”

“Fine.  Please pull up to the first window.  I’ll have your total and a treat for your hamster.”

This cycle continues until she turns 30 and realizes that she’ll never get in to the steakhouse.  She’s waited much too long to make reservations, so she settles for a Beta male who takes her to Chili’s on 2 for 1 night in his minivan.  Hey, it’s not the steakhouse she deserves, but it’s better than that asshole Solomon II at the drive thru boyfriend joint.  At least Chili’s has real silverware.

That night she stumbles upon a blog with a post entitled “Drive Thru Boyfriends” and gets righteously annoyed.  That’s not her at all.  That was never her intention.  She’s different, special, and unique.  What gives the author the right to assume that he knows her or can determine what she’s been through in her AMAZING life?  He doesn’t know her story.  He doesn’t know her heart.  He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.  He can’t tell her what kind of person she is, or what her fate will be.  She’s different than the rest.  She’s strong, independent and wise beyond her years.

In her rage she hits the road again, confused by what has happened to her and angry that she didn’t get what she deserved out of life.  With her Beta boyfriend wondering where the hell she is, she drives past the steakhouse which is closed for the night.  Blinded by fury and driven by emotion, she decides to make yet another change.  A real and meaningful change this time.  This time she’ll get it right and enjoy what she deserves for being an amazing woman.  Her rationalization hamster helps out with navigation and leads her to a brand new place.  Somewhere she’s never been.  This is it!  This is what she needs.  This time she’s confident she’ll get what she deserves.

And she does.

“Welcome to McFling’s.  My name is Solomon II.  May I take your order?”

“Steak, please…”

Suggested Reading: Commitment as a Form of Female Investment by Dalrock.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

About Solomon II
As iron sharpeneth iron, so one man sharpeneth another. Proverbs 27:17

One blogger likes this post.
Dalrock

16 Responses to Drive Thru Boyfriends

  1.  Penguin says:

    The last couple of posts are great. You’re on fire!

  2.  HappilyMarriedButJustGotLucky says:

    Agree with Penguin. Quite creative and enjoyable!

  3.  Days of Broken Arrows says:

    …and then one day she turned 42. And she realized few people wanted to serve her McBurgers anymore. The steak had never really come her way, but McBurgers always came easy. Now even that was hard to come by. So she went driving into the night until it became morning.

    Sunday morning.

    That’s when she found the mega-church, or the McChurch. She also found McJesus in the McPastor’s McSermons which weren’t really from scripture, but a McReading of the scripture to appeal to the McPeople who filled the McChurch. The Dr. Phil platitudes of the McPreacher allowed her to feel self-righteous and pass judgment on everyone else. Sure, she might have screwed anything that walked, but now she was a McVirgin. Surely, she was a cut above those sinners who didn’t find the McWord, wasn’t she?

    Male attention had ceased, but it came around again when she began posting McPlatitudes on her Facebook page. Things like “If God brings you to it, then God will get you through it.” Now guys were practically high five-ing her online, since that was what they thought they were supposed to do, knowing nothing better in their empty American McLives of football’n’McJesus. And she began responding to people with “God loves you!” Instead of a simple “Bye!” or “Hello!” That got attention. Her breasts were sagging, but her HolyMcSpirit was high. It also made it easier to block out the cries she heard of all the McBabies she never did have (or the ones that wound up washed in pieces in the McDoctor’s drain).

    Like all TRUE stories, this one has a moral.

    Women who use sex in their twenties to get power and fulfillment use religion in their forties when the sex well runs dry. Of course, it’s all McPower — not the real thing, but a low-budget simulation.

  4.  Solomon II says:

    @Days: Beautifully done, and so true. As the son of a Baptist Minister, I can confirm 100%. Church is the last refuge of many a whore. That’s why I laugh when men say they want to go to church to meet a good girl.

    @ Penguin and Happily: Thanks! I really appreciate your feedback.

  5.  finndistan says:

    That was one of the best ways the concept has been written about.

    Btw,

    It is not just wanting to eat steak at a restaurant, it is also wanting the restaurant to pay them for eating the steak; and even pay for the open tabs of the past McFlings.

    And due all the additives (i.e. sodium glutamate, sweeteners, preservatives…) , the taste buds are almost dead, so the steak will never taste like a pumped um McFling with cream on top.

  6.  Solomon II says:

    @finndistan: It’s amazing how this analogy could go on and on forever and still hold true.

  7. Pingback: Commitment as a form of female investment. | Dalrock
  8.  Thag Jones says:

    He can’t judge her actions based on what other girls do simply because she did the same things and ended up in the same situation they did.

    I lol’d. That’s a good one!

  9.  dalrock says:

    “We don’t serve steak. Show me your tits.”

    One of the funniest things I’ve read in a long, long time!

    Thanks for your link back and putting me on your blogroll! I’ve added you to mine as well not so much out of reciprocation, but because I want to be able to read your latest posts easily. I’ve only read your most recent four posts, but I’m hooked.

    One question though, who is Darlock? :)

    [Damn it. Give me a sec.]

  10. Pingback: Linkage is Good for You: You Know What the Pattern Is Edition
  11.  Bronckin’ Buckeye says:

    Is this the customer you’re talking about?

    http://40daysandengaged.tumblr.com/

    It’s a must read.

    “Flirting with the laws of attraction. As single (and choosy) girls ——— and —– have decided to put their beliefs in the Law of Attraction to the test to attract the men of their dreams…. We will be wearing engagement rings for 40 days to send signals to the universe that we have found what we are looking for. By doing this we are hoping that in response to those signals we are sending out we will actually receive what we are looking for.
    We will be following some rules through this experiment.
    1. The ring must be worn during every public outting
    2. If a possible “love interest” questions the ring and asks if we are engaged we must answer “Yes, to myself.”
    3. No dating (or similar extra curricular activities) during the 40 day period.
    4. We must go “out” and socialize at least once per weekend
    *Rules are subject to change at our discretion*”

    [S2 Says: Christ, man. Women are fucking delusional. I should quit picking on them and start a foundation or something.]

  12.  Squared says:

    Hey Solomon, just found your blog earlier today. I’ve gone back in your archives and have read about a dozen of your posts already, and I find myself short of superlatives. Absolutely brilliant stuff all around. You definitely have what it takes to become the new king of this part of the blogosphere.

    I’ll be checking this one regularly, keep it up!

  13.  Steve says:

    Funny shit bro.

I was recently thinking about how cell phones, texting and technology in general has cheapened our existence, lessened the importance of a gesture, ruined the meaning of romance. In contrast to the world of film, where every action must be properly blocked, every word understoood, listened to, and respected. Evey moment of silence valued, every second of utmost importance. Every element of your surrounding set up to make the most of that moment in time, preserving it forever on film.

The scene is set in rural America somewhere. The year is 1979. The set lit with a musty afternoon light. A young college student returns home for a bit of R&R after the death of his long time girlfriend Emily. He was a quarterback, she, a cheerleader. He walks into the room, drops his duffelbag on his bed. A poster of Farah Fawcett hangs on the wall. He turns to peer out the window, at the children playing innocently up the road, noticing the simplicity of their world, wishing things could be different, when he notices a picture on his dresser. Brushing off the dust, it’s a picture of him and Emily. It was right after they met, in senior year of high school. They’d had a fight, each said hurtful things, she finally storming out in tears. Realizing the stupidity of their argument he’d asked her roommate what her favorite flowers were, gone to her house, gotten past her Dad, and given her the flowers. She threw them on the floor chasing him out of the house. Before she slammed the door on him, he apologized, told her he loved her and if she can get past their differences, she should meet him a the Shane O’Leary Memorial Field behind their school the next evening at 7, otherwise she should never see him again.

She showed up.

Today, in 2011, that scene would’ve been interrupted with some annoying sorority friend of hers telling her what to do via text. Even worse, it couldn’t have happened, because nothing is certain. Everything would’ve been arranged through texting, and either party could’ve do continue

Came across this on a blog. I couldn’t agree more.

A Proposal: Let’s Stop Making ‘Wedding’ One of Life’s Key Check Marks.

by Joy Engel on April 27, 2011

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you that I’m officially interested in the Royal Wedding.

I tried to keep the cynicism alive, I really did. But it’s hard to be anti-Royal Wedding while also being friends with Chiara and communicating daily with a colleague in London. And once I realized that being interested in the Royal Wedding essentially means day drinking and talking about fancy hats (two of my favorite pastimes), I was all on board.

Like all short-lived obsessions, I’ve thrown myself into this. I watched the Lifetime movie, I read some articles about their history and crowned myself an expert on Wills and Kate. I think they’re nice. I think they actually love each other. I think she has glorious hair. And that’s a lot for me to think about a couple I will never actually meet. Let’s have some more champagne.

My wedding enthusiasm is (more…)

Generations have changed. It’s true. There’s a lot to complain about the way we young folk are, yet at the same time I’m celebrating. Yes we are far more decadent than my granpda’s peers probably were. But in essence we just have have different quirks. Let me illustrate with one quick thought:

When my grandpa was a kid he had a practice of giving a girl a wedding ring and then having children. At my age I much prefer to see if the baby is as awesome as I am, and only then give her a wedding ring, sort of as a thank you gift.

Now who’s the one with the quirks now?

Here’s an article I ran into in today’s edition of the NYtimes…eerily similar to the idea of paying the Shadchan 2k for matchmaking…


I was in the cafe at Borders last month when a homeless man asked to sit next to me. He cast several glances my way before offering me two sandwiches from his plastic Conway bag. If I hadn’t already had dinner plans, I might have taken him up on his tuna fish.

After an exhausting decade of dating in New York, I was grateful for any offer that came my way. My once lofty list of must-haves had been whittled down to: “clean; ability to hold conversation a plus.” Once I realized the man was hitting on me (either that, or he thought I was also homeless, which, being between apartments, I technically was), I, too, sized him up. He had a good frame under the layers of coats, and after a shave, a shower and some laundered clothes, he could pass for a handsomer Quentin Tarantino. (more…)

This is the perspective of a modern orthodox friend of mine on the issue.
“The Frummy Who Finagled.”
I have firmly held the belief throughout my life that Judaism allows men and women to be able to be in contact with each other. The Torah, though it is male-dominated due to its writing in a time when the world was male-dominated, still has encounters in which unmarried, single man has spoken to and been attracted to unmarried woman, and, though at times it has had negative connotations, (like Dina- she may have flirted a little much with a prince. Bad idea Dina. You never flirt with an entitled teenager) the fact is that male and female conversation is quite common in the Bible, and in no instances does the Bible ban such encounter.
This disclaimer brings me to a CalmKallahs topic in which a Beis Yaakov girl, KEEP READING THERE’S MOAR!

So there’s this girl who wrote into the forum known as CalmKallahs.com completely freaking out. She posted there the following:

“k-i am your typical frum girl in shidduchim-learning guys… i am freaking out and dont know what to do with myself… to make a long story short- i met a guy who i cannot marry- for a lot of reasons-but we liked each other so much and ended up talking, eventually meeting and got physical and recently we had sex. i am flipping out. i never talked to a guy b4 except on dates and dont no what to do…. will i still be able to marry a frum learning boy? am i ruined forever? in my heart i am still a frum bais yaakov girleven tho i know i messed up big time and have not told anyone about this and cant imagine doing so- no one would ever believe it so dont tell me to tell my parents. please help me!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel so lost and hopeless!!!”

Let me preface by saying I completely understand the world in which she comes from. I came from there too. So it’s not her I think is amazingly lost, but her world. (And my past?)

It’s sad that a community exists that has such issues. A girl kKEEP READING THERE’S MOAR!

Decadent…Bus Ads?

Posted: December 8, 2010 in Religion, Sex
Tags: , , , , ,

I’m surfing the web instead of being busy with the things I need to get done before Thursday. Confession. But I did come across this article by Rabbi Brad Hirschfield titled When Bikinis and Black Hats Collide and thought the way he spoke about certain points was powerful and clear –  almost irrefutable. Although opinions are not fact, he manages to make his seem damn close. I’ve made red the part that caught my eye.

Is this nation governed by its laws or by the whims of narrowly defined religious groups? As we fight for greater freedom in Afghanistan, can we still assure our own freedom of expression here at home? Those questions are up for grabs in New York City, and if it can happen there, it can happen anywhere.

The New York Metropolitan Transit Authority removed advertising from all its buses which pass through heavily Orthodox Jewish neighborhoods in Brooklyn. Well, not all the ads, just the ones for Georgi vodka, which feature bikini-clad (more…)

Birthdays. For years, birthdays would evoke memories of family gatherings, birthday cakes, and presents, along with cards sent from distant relatives. As we entered into the technological era, the party venue has evolved into something of an entirely different nature.

People today seem to feel an obligation to write on the Facebook Wall of the person whose birthday it is. And people expect it.

Gone are the birthday cards, cakes, and warm family parties. In its place is a long line of people well wishing against a now-familiar blue backdrop we spend most of our life on. Many times this place can become drama-filled, cold and unwelcoming. Especially on your birthday.

I always like observing the different wishes people send over Facebook and have divided them into 3 categories:

1. The Friend.

Typically someone who knows the person well. Comfortable in their relationship, not trying to prove anything. Simply wishing a happy birthday.

A typical example would be:

“Happy birthday!! Many many more!”

2. Best Friend. Typically someone who spends all their time with the person, shares alot of jokes with them.

A typical example would be:

Girl2Girl: OMG HAPPY BDAY GIRLY! ur finnaaaaaaaally 18!!!!! my yummy bearlovegirl is growing uppppp! cya tonite mwaa!!!

Guy2Guy: yo duuuuuude wtf man we gotta party. btw its sikkkk ur finally 21 we gonna partyyyyyy!

I left out the Girl2Guy and Guy2Girl, just because.

3. The Acquaintance.

Someone who sees the person from time to time. Likely wants to be polite or just not fall off the radar. They may like to prove their social status by showing using the birthday wish to show that they’re acquainted. A certain level of awkwardness is to be expected.

A few examples would be:

“happy bday”

That translates into the guy who is an acquaintance but is just saying happy birthday. Nothing more.

“Happy b-day :)”

This is the acquaintance who feels to awkward just giving a plain “happy bday” so ads a smiley. Likely it’s a girl2guy or guy2girl comment.

“happppy bdaaaayyyyy!!

This is the acquaintance who feels the need to prove to himself, the world and whoever else he feels is listening that him and the birthday-wish recipient are tight!

4. Facebook Friend Only

This person doesn’t care about the recipient of his wishes at all. He is friends with them because they bumped into each other once, they have mutual friends and so one friended the other, or he simply wanted to see that guy’s friends list. (no I don’t friend people to see their friends list. Ever.)

A typical example would be:

“Hey happy b-day whens the party????”

or

“awesome ur 21 now we can party” – followed by a text “so wheren’s the party dude”

In reality I feel that Facebook is becoming a warmer place than it had been, as more an more of our lives become integrated with Facebook.

But this one card says it best: