Do you know what Love is?

Do you know what love is?

I am an authority on love. I should know, okay? I have been searching for it over 44 years. I have known 24 women in the Biblical sense, and dozens more casually. Women have flocked to me like bees to honey. And out of all these women, only two loved me. How did the fuck I know? Because they forgave me, over and over again. Their mission in life was to take care of me, not themselves. They thought of me first. That was love. They gave, gave, and gave of themselves to me. The other women? They fucking used me, man. They never loved me. They loved themselves. They used me in order to love themselves. How did the fuck I know? Because they never forgave me. When we had a fight, they dug up old bones and past hurts and used whatever facts they knew about me---facts they would never have had, if I had not loved them, trusted them, and told them about---to hurt me when I myself refrained from doing the same thing to them. What did I do? I ran away. That was why the relationships didn't last. I trusted them no more. Love is trust and giving, not betrayal and hurting others. 

Next time some bitch tells you she loves you, don't fucking believe it. Just smile and be polite. Then watch her closely. See if she plays games, if she's selfish, if she doesn't keep her word, if she's only concerned with herself when you have sex with her, if she wants you to spend money on her. Watch her, man. Watch her like a hawk. Don't be stupid and gullible like me. A woman's words don't mean shit. All women lie and manipulate. They like to be in control. They are bossy. When I read stories in the paper about a woman this or a woman that being beaten by a boyfriend or husband, I say, that's right, beat the bitch some more, show her who's the boss. 

An old, ugly, undesirable, ignorant, poorly educated, delusional, intellectually cowardly bitch demanded that I remove this post because it eerily brought back bad memories of her previous incarnation with a drunkard husband. I told her to take a hike. "Hit the road, Jack, oops, I mean Jill, and don't come back no more." Her absurd demand reminded me of what Harriette had advised me. She said, "Roberto, please honey, after I die, promise me that you only associate with women who are smarter or at least as smart as you. The dumb ones will never be able to understand you. They will annoy you. They will bring you nothing but pain. There is a reason why castes exist, why people marry one another within a circle, why people associate with other people with similar education, tastes, and intelligence. You've been bragging that tons of women have come after you, but from what you've told me, all of them are garbage, except me. Only I understand you. We are alike in temperament and intelligence. Other women think you're as dumb as them. No, they think they're smarter than you. That's the real fucking comedy and tragedy. You got what I was saying, right?"