I am happier because I am charting my own destiny without the interference (this is what vagina bearers call advice) from a shrewish, asexual, harpy.  It’s rewarding to succeed on your own, mentor your own sons, and spend your own free time without some gynocentric t~~~ telling you how to do things different or dragging you to the in-laws for a Saturday.

You feel liberated and validated without having to cuddle.

I get happy when I see single young men out there that aren’t married (No I’m not gay).  They are charting their own course and living their own lives.  I can almost feel the testosterone flowing from my b~~~~ in much the same way as watching The Chronicles of Riddick.  “And then I’m gonna b~~~~ deep into Dahl.  But only because she asked me to.  Sweet like.”

I actually get happy when a woman my age starts asking the usual pre-enslavement questions from her checklist (job, education, car, house, kids, am I married? etc), I usually start asking them right back at her.  She usually starts to get the message.  Or maybe it’s the sarcastic expression on my face.  Who’s to say?  When that doesn’t work I usually ask “How many husbands and or boyfriends have you had in the last ten years?”  When they start with “well………” I cut her off and say “That many huh?”

It’s a total gas to see that self assured “I have what you want so you better qualify” look on their faces fracture and reveal that they understand that I know that they are prostitutes.

A woman never know what a good man she’s got,

Until she puts him down!

So listen, my honey, listen to me,

I want you to understand,

Just like a silver dollar goes from hand to hand,

A Woman goes from man to man

Alfred Williams ~ 1907

Here’s some light reading to mull over: Hedonism (Wikipedia).