A good writing friend of mine recently alerted me to a wonderful, informative tweet regarding the ideals a woman must adhere to in order to successfully hook a High Value Man. Now, I won’t share the tweet itself, only this excerpt, as I believe kicking someone when they are down is unfair.
However, I think it is only right that I craft a response for the many women who responded to his tweet, wondering what they should be looking for in a High Value Man. I would say this is just a simply summary of the things a man needs to do in order to find himself a High Value Woman.
Dear Men Searching for High Value Women,
In order to find your true love, please refer to the following list of “must do’s and do not’s”. Adhering to this list will ensure a success rate of anywhere between 0 and 100%.
- You must sleep with minimum three, maximum six women before engaging in coitus with me. I will require a clean STI test, and I will need you to be responsible for your own birth control so I do not get “trapped” in a relationship with you. As a High Value Woman I am very important and busy, and I don’t have time to raise a baby, let alone you.
- The following tattoos are acceptable: birds, music notes, birds turning into music notes, feathers, feathers turning into birds taking flight among a burst of music notes.
- The follow tattoos are unacceptable: your mom’s name, my name, an ex girlfriend’s name, anatomically correct birds that are just doing bird things.
- Don’t be a single dad. Please get rid of your child before attempting to approach us.
- A true High Value Woman will not care if you are fat or thin, tanned or fair, built like a brick fire house or a house on fire. What a true High Value Woman cares about is whether or not you are going to sit on your ass like a big dumb baby, or if you are going to get up and do something about whatever it is you don’t like about your own physique.
- Stop being so unpleasant and disagreeable. And if you must be unpleasant and disagreeable, at least don’t be bald.
- Stop selling your soul to the Devil at a dusty crossroad in exchange for prolific guitar skills. We get it, you can play Greenday’s Time of Your Life. You can stop now.
- We don’t want to hear Wonderwall either.
- You love your mother, and that is wonderful, but if you could kindly not be the manager of a rundown motel on the side of a road, overlooked by a strange gothic-esque home where your mother’s frightening vissage appears during bursts of lightning, that would be lovely. Also, do not mummify your family members.
- Do not go on a Heroes Journey. As a High Value Woman, I could not possibly care less that your adopted parents have been murdered by the same thugs you had words with while in your one horse town, and now your younger sister has been kidnapped by them and you must travel the universe in your ramshackle starship to save her, and oh look, you’re the long lost prince and Savior of a planet in a forgotten galaxy. I mean, give me a break.
- If you don’t own Boardwalk and Park Place, I’m not sure how I could ever consider you of an equal High Value to me. And don’t tell me that owning all four railroads is somehow comparable.
- Stop relegating yourself to a bell tower where your only friends are ancient gargoyles and an old, blind woman who is unable to see your hideous face. Self-pity is so unattractive.
- Put your goddamn dishes in the dish washer, are you fucking kidding me? Are we actually having this conversation?
- You’re a leader in the French Revolution and it’s July 14th and the other bros expect you to be there to storm the Bastille, but I spent all day cleaning the house and cooking this goddamned roast so you better be home in time for dinner or you’re sleeping on the couch.
- Don’t you pull a fucking meet-cute on me. Don’t help me pick up my books that you accidentally knocked out of my hands as we collided turning a corner. Don’t cause me to spill my coffee all over my new blouse. Don’t help me chase down my tea cup pig that broke free as I manic pixie dream girl’d my way around the park. In fact, just don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Stay away from me.
- Stop trying to convince me to take part in your casino heist. Yes, I am a master forger, and yes I am the only one who can make the appropriate identification cards that will allow you to enter the safe, but I’m also a High Value Woman who has a PTA meeting to attend and I’ll be damned if Julie O’Sullivan gets to lord over me how she brought her fucking homemade fudgey brownies again while all I brought was a deflated box mix disaster.
- Stop treating women as if we are complex puzzles that need to be solved. We do not need to come with a manual because despite the prolific douche baggery propagated by certain “High Value Men” who consider themselves “experts” on women, I can guarantee that they are just scam artists preying on your insecurities. And here’s the big ol’ secret: We’re insecure too. Everyone is. The best we can do is be good people, do good things, treat each other well, and live and let live. Adhering to some arbitrary list pulled out of the ass of a clearly scummy man or woman in the hopes that it will land you a person of “High Value” just serves to push these dangerous ideas further. You’re not helping anyone, least of all yourself.
- And can you clean the toilet once in a blue moon? Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I have to even say this.
A Disagreeable and Unpleasant Feminist