The Enticing Breed of the Psychopathic Woman

You and I have unfinished business...

Remember when sex couldn’t kill you unless you lost control of the car?

What is it that makes the seemingly sane man seek out the certifiably crazy? These otherwise smart guys can’t seem to stay away from those shiny poisonous berries in the forest, that enticing breed of the beautiful psychopath. What at first appears exciting, refreshing and different from their usual dating fare, they soon discover, is the metamorphosis of a crazy girl…a messed-up, demented, crazy ass bitch. And they fall for them continually, wasting years of their lives, being abused, tormented, chewed up and spit out.

Why? Because when crazy is wrapped in beautiful, it’s hard to keep on walking. The consensus of these wounded men appears to be, that you’re willing to forgive a lot if a girl is beautiful, and beyond that willing to have sex with you. Most guys assume, “If she’s crazy, she must be crazy in bed.”

And that’s exactly right. Most crazy women are crazy in the sack. They love sex, have no inhibitions, and are willing to do things the so-called “nice girls” wouldn’t do. Now I’m not the kind of crazy we’re talking about here; though I am a bit off-balance and could use some therapy, I’ve never been known to throw a guy out of my house after sex, nor have I lunged at his throat or threatened his manhood. You can breathe now.

We’re talking clinical sense, bona fide crazy girls. The beautiful nymphos―super conductors of sex, who toy with men’s minds by showing up at their doorstep in the wee hours demanding wild, dirty sex, and then never calling again. Incidentally, an inordinate number seem to live in New York and Miami, (presumably because they are actresses, models or dancers) have at least one substance problem, and they like to throw and break things when they get mad. (I’ve been known to slam a few cabinet doors)

My friend Jerry, decades ago, told me of a woman who asked him to pee on her on their first date and another who liked to smother him. Yes, he is still with us. Another friend went out with a woman once who he had met at a trendy club―her “friends” had bailed on her so he gave her a ride home. One thing led to another. On their first real date, she tells him if she sees him looking at another woman, she’ll rip out his lungs and wear them as a hat. Charming!

(No second date for you, ya nut crusted cheese ball…and holy fucking hooray for caller ID!)

Part of the appeal of these psychopathic women, is this self-delusion, that lets you tell yourself, “She’s crazy, but only because I make her this way.” (pathetic that you actually believe that) And once you realize your looks had nothing to do with her putting out, you try to win her over (even more pathetic) and an impossible task of course. These women aren’t interested and frankly are bored to death with any guy that would do them twice. The fact that they don’t want you in ‘their club,’ just makes you want to be a member that much more.

Most of these girls struggle with their own beauty, having been valued for their looks and sex their whole life.  Now they use it to manipulate men, get what they want and then they get angry when it works. It’s no wonder so many of these deranged women have rage problems.

Speaking of camera-punching pissed off wenches, Naomi Campbell’s rage can be explained by her “abandonment issues,” or so she told Oprah recently—or maybe, just maybe it’s because she doesn’t eat….and why do that, when clearly everyone loves to watch a hottie go batshit crazy with mobile devices!

Look…whether it was you that drove your wench crazy, or whether she was prone to crazy to begin with, or an unfortunate combination of the two, women will always maintain over the course of their lives that they were slowly and methodically driven insane by stupid men. (stupid = clueless) And of course men will maintain that it’s impossible for a man to act intelligently when he’s with a woman who’s out of her freakin’ fucking mind.

They say every cloud has a silver lining, although it’s difficult to find one when you’re on the receiving end of a sharp object.

Be the stable, discerning and intelligent guy you are, and walk away. I know the sex is crazy good. You’ll find that again…with a sane person. You’ve heard the awful stories. Run while you can. Distance is the best policy. Plenty of distance.




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2 Responses to The Enticing Breed of the Psychopathic Woman

  1. Minka says:

    “Because when crazy is wrapped in beautiful, it’s hard to keep on walking.” Yes, it’s lines like this that keep me coming back for more and make you a superstar of the blogiverse, lady! But really, so much of this whole thing sadly boils down to a trite but truly simple analogy with an insect: moth to a flame. We are seduced by that which can kill us.

    I think if more men realized just how much crazy there was to be had, they’d think twice. But they kid themselves she’ll be just crazy enough to be exciting and interesting… but not so crazy that she’ll burn down their house or storm into their office and make a scene. Or again — if she really turns out to be that fucking out of her mind, the guy will somehow find a way to make her dial down her insanity… oh, how the ego is the servant of the dick. Sigh. So predictable.

    And yet, despite this fabulous post of yours (and it really is fabulous and smart and engaging and all that good shit we’ve come to expect of you!)… I’d love to know how many otherwise smart men will actually heed its wisdom and warnings. Hmmm….

    • Karen says:

      Yes girl… “moth to a flame” is the perfect metaphor.
      It’s temporary insanity for these guys and then they are dead-fucked!…imprisoned in a dysfunctional relationship that may have crossed into the danger zone.

      There is great earth-shattering sex to be had with sane, cool, together women, who just happen to have that naughty side. Open up your eyes and look past your dicks and past the beautiful wrapping. Think of the end result..a hot sexy intelligent babe, oozing confidence and sensuality..The perfect happily ever after.

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