Hi. It’s Amy. What do you mean, what Amy. THE AMY. THE ONE WHO WRITES THIS BLOG. Come on, that isn’t even funny.
In honor of Sneaky Fucker Week, this is…LUCY’S FOOTBALL’S FIRST EVER GUEST POST. ZOMG. I know. I KNOW. I could NOT be more excited. Well, I guess I could. I mean, I could get a million dollars or something, and I can’t even imagine how exciting that would be. Or a pony. Or a UNICORN. Or a UNICORN AND A KITTEN AND A RAINBOW. OK, now I’m just getting overly excited so I have to get a cool drink of water.
Anyway. This is a guest post by MR. ANONYMOUS. MR. ANONYMOUS is so-named because he would not like his name associated with this post. And, out of respect for him and love for Sneaky Fucker Week and total and utter excitement that someone wanted to GUEST POST ON MY BLOG YO, I of course respect that decision. I will also not pass a single judgment, nor say a WORD about this person or this post, because what if I accidentally said something that revealed his secret identity like that Canadian TV show My Secret Identity that had Jerry O’Connell in it when I was in high school? I’d feel just terrible and no one would ever want to guest post here again. I would totally get kicked out of blogging summer camp.
Oh. Obviously there’s some naughty use of the big bad eff-word round there here parts today, pilgrims. Kiddos, go watch Nick Jr. or something, ok? Thanks a milli0n.
Here is MR. ANONYMOUS’ Sneaky Fucker entry. It is a tale of Sneaky Fuckery thus-far unsurpassed in our project. Take heed! TAKE HEED!
In this very blog where I am now guest posting, a statement was made in a post’s comments postulating two mating philosophies in the animal kingdom…the first was the alpha male…survival of the fittest, etc. The second was, and I’ll let Andreas tell it, “The second strategy is to be a Sneaky fucker. This consists of avoiding any direct conflicts with the alpha males, and keep to the periphery of the harem of females. Then, when the leading male is busy fighting off any competing males, the Sneaky fucker male can sneak in and – well – fuck. And as long as he’s out of the way by the time the alpha male is back, he doesn’t risk getting into a fight.”
When I was a boy…
All the best stories I ever ignored always started out that way, so let’s skip ahead a few years.
When I was in college. . . (cue dreamy swirly colors and harp music. The scene blurs, the picture undulates, out of focus to slowly resolve on a 21 year old man-child.)
When I was in college I wasn’t the strongest or the most athletic. I didn’t have the best moves or lines, and I didn’t have daddy’s money or a hot car. I was a lanky (lanky is what the emaciated kids call skinny) 6’ tall and 150 pounds dripping wet. Maybe 155. And I scored.
I was a sneaky fucker. Maybe not a straight up traditional sneaky fucker, I was well-liked, in a fraternity, involved, moderately attractive…but certainly I could not be counted among the alpha males, and certainly I was sneaky. So I suppose it fits well enough.
Without really understanding it myself, I had developed sneaky fucker skills that played to my strengths…skills that allowed me to surpass my alpha rivals in terms of sheer number of conquests. But…it was like playing in the NFC West. You can win every game in the division, but really, who’d you beat?
Rule one for sneaky fuckers: Lower your standards. To win the NFC West, you play the 49ers, the Cardinals, the Seahawks, and the Rams. In other words, you are the Farmer Ted of NFL Football; the king of the dipshits. By lowering your expectations you may not get the best looking girl with the most amazing body and money dripping from her pockets…but you WILL get girls. So while Mr. Three Sport Athlete is busy jumping through the hoops that Alpha female is putting in his path to “glory” (hoops that invariably include “be true to me and only me”, you can be retreading the tires of your uncle’s 18-wheeler with your used condoms.
Survival of the fittest applies to Sneaky Fuckers too…but in reverse. The idea is, if you’re running from a cheetah, you don’t have to be faster than the cheetah, you just have to be faster than the other people running with you. The sneaky fucker in this analogy catches the trailing antelope, perhaps, but he catches an antelope. How would it work in “the wild” if cheetahs only ever killed “the best” antelope? There’d be a lot less dead antelope and a lot more hungry cheetahs. Don’t be a hungry cheetah.
The low-hanging fruit is sweet too, why even get the ladder? Being sneaky isn’t always about “sneaking”, it’s about understanding the way things work. Pick that dangling cherry.
Rule two for sneaky fuckers: Everyone wants what they can’t have. I’m not saying feign disinterest. Nobody remembers the sneaky fucker who kept to himself. I’m saying be openly contrary.
My college roommate was neither a sneaky fucker nor an alpha male. He spent a lot of time being the big brother that no girl wanted to date. He was so nice…so supportive…so walked on. I was distant and sarcastic. I rolled my eyes and shook my head. I was unsupportive, borderline misogynistic and indolent. And somehow…that made me impossible to resist. The reverse idea here is, “I won’t belong to any club who would have me as a member.” The sneaky fucker is the club in this analogy, and the girls have no prayer of gaining entrance. That idea is enticing; somehow it’s enticing even if the club or person in question is really not all that spectacular.
Kelly was dating a guy. He was never around, but they wrote to each other. He was a law student at another university and Kelly told me when we hooked up, that whatever “we” were. . . he was the guy she wanted. I didn’t really care. Kelly was not “the one”.
We hooked up a couple times. Eventually her conscience got the better of her and she called me to tell me she no longer felt comfortable having sex with me because it felt like cheating. She said she wanted to date. I said no. She said, “If we’re not dating, then we’re not having sex.”
I think she expected this to decide the matter. She seemed uncertain how to proceed when I said, “Okay, I completely understand.” And I did. I didn’t want her to compromise her principles to have a purely sexual relationship with me. That seemed like a lot of pressure for something I didn’t really want that much in the first place. The law school student was turning into a real douche (maybe even more of a douche than I was), but I just wasn’t that into her.
She called me a day later and said, “I changed my mind. I’m okay if we just have sex.”
I told her I wasn’t going to wait around while she vacillated between yes and no. The offer was off the table.
Not giving a shit (at least in college) is like this bizarre intoxicating love potion to the opposite sex. There were a few repeat offers made. A sneakier fucker than I was probably would have capitalized on them. But I had moved on to other girls that I didn’t give a shit about.
That said, it’s not all about not giving a shit and aiming low. Remember, sneaky fuckers, no matter how beautiful the girl, there’s someone out there who’s sick of her shit. And when you capture that girl, you should probably watch out.
She doesn’t seem to care as much about you as your last girlfriend did. She doesn’t call very often, or care if you go out with your friends. Sometimes she agrees to have sex with you…sometimes she’s just not interested. She gets a lot of attention, and seems a little irritated when you continually express your jealousy. And that is irresistible to you (see above). So you fight harder and more desperately, cling tighter and eventually chase her off. She’s dating the quarterback now.
And that is called karma.
In closing, there was some sort of weird fraternal code that prevented me from ever catching my friends’ girlfriends on the rebound and consoling my way into their pants…it’s probably the only morally decent code of conduct I can point to from my college years, but I did know a few people “from around” that benefited from that approach. It’s totally a sneaky fucker thing to do.