Sex Ed, Why Women Should Never Cry, December 22, 2013.

She should’ve never told me that I made her cry. I’m really sensitive. I have to know why she cried. So I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t tell her how I feel or talk to her, because I may make her cry again. There’s so many things I need to say to this woman, that I can think of which thing to say first and she’s not talking to me so I can’t tell what she’s thinking. I’m thinking, “are you my wife?” I can’t say that. I don’t know if she believes in guns, abortion or space aliens. She might be married have a boyfriend or be a lesbian for all I know. I’m tongue-tied. I can’t sleep at night. I can’t figure women out. What was she wearing those stupid Pjs? Why did she go ahum ahum ahum. I’m kicking myself in the ass for the things that I said and then kicking myself in the ass again for the things I didn’t say. I should’ve told her my dad cried for five days before my mother figure it out what was wrong with him. My dad said, “when your mom figure it out why I was crying, she was really nice to me.” That’s how he was able to have 10 kids. Maybe I can talk to her over the phone but I forget to ask for her phone number and I don’t even know her name so, I know that’s not going to work. I should’ve asked her for her phone number last Saturday. I went in there last night to get her phone number, I couldn’t even say anything to her, she was with a table of friends.

I gave a woman my phone number before she had a nervous breakdown, because she could not call me and she had a boyfriend. Once they know that you don’t know what their name is, forget it. But names were not important to me before because, I did not care before. Women lose their names when they get married anyway. Their children will call them mom, their husband will call them my wife and the school teachers will call her Mrs. Campbell. I didn’t know my mother’s name until I was like 12 years old and a friend told me. He said that’s what his mom calls her. She will make a good mom if her name is not important. That’s one of God’s secrets to screen out nympho’s. The only girl I ever dated was Dori and that was because when she said it I thought of the word dorky and could not forget it. Most of them women will not write their names on their phone numbers. If you ask them to write their name on their phone number, they rip up the phone number and say, “you forgot my name”.

It was such a supernatural event that got both of us together that neither one of us believe it. If you notice in one of my previous video I call God a bad Cupid, then I apologized and he fixed me up with this girl. She thinks that I dug through 8 inches of snow, chiseled through frozen ground, drilled a hole in a gas pipe, just so I can knock on her door at 2:30 in the morning and say, “I smell gas, call the gas company and turn around and leave.” I had no idea she lived in that apartment or even apartment complex. She told me a week before she lived in some apartment along that mile stretch of road but there are several apartment complexes along that route. But if she had not told me that she lived in an apartment along that road, I would not have cared enough to go running into the building to see if there was gas inside. I would’ve just held my breath until I got past the smell of gas. Who cares if the building blows up I don’t know anyone in there. It’s like I did not care that we were going to bomb Syria until I learned Syrian girl lived there. Then I had to stop the bombing of Syria by sending letters to the president. I thought she plotted the whole thing out, turning on the gas just as I was walking past her apartment, “let’s see if he cares enough about me to run in here and save my life.” I should analyze it too much that’s what’s making me crazy. It was as if I could read her thoughts sometimes. She thought I caused the gas leak. Not too crazy several years ago I was walking down the same strip of road and seen a fire in someone’s backyard. I knocked on the door to warn them of the fire which was pretty small they put it out with their garden hoses and these people thought that I started the fire. It becomes a pretty crazy world when you can’t call the fire department because they will think you started the fire and you can’t call the gas company because they think you caused the gas leak. But there are people in prison like JodiArias who had witnessed a murder and because they could not find the murderers they charge the witness with murder because they put themselves at the crime scene and the police have to arrest somebody or they’re not doing their jobs.

When I ran into the apartment building thinking it was filled with gas to warn the residents, I forgot to wipe the snow off my shoes. When I went to the door she was looking at my shoes with the snow all over them and I can tell she was thinking, “this guy didn’t even bother to wipe his feet”. I can see this in a comedy movie where firemen run into a burning building and one of the rescue victims, tells the firemen they need to go back and wipe their feet before they come in the building and the firemen go back and wipe their feet as smoke is pouring out of the building. Everything this woman says it’s like it’s prophetic, she’s like Mrs. Messiah.

That poem that everyone seems to like about why women cry actually comes from Islam. It’s a Islamic poem that was written by a men to help oppress women and keep them down. They are afraid to say what they want because they fear violence by men. This poem is no different than the men who keep a picture of a woman with a black eye on the wall. The apostles asked Jesus if Mary could be saved. Jesus said, “when the woman becomes as a man, then she will be saved”. It doesn’t mean that when women grow penises, but it kind of means when they grow balls and get treated equally. She said to me, “I just cry just like men need to hit someone when they get angry”. I was kind of shocked. I don’t hit women. She must’ve seen abuse in her family. I guess with a violent society most men are abusive. I used to fix women up with the men they liked because that’s what love is. I wanted them to find the man they wanted, even if I wanted them, I would rather have them happy. Then I realized although I can fix them up with the men they prefer over me, but I could not guarantee their safety with that man they chose.

I had a problem with Dori straightening her out, when she wanted me to open the car door for her on a date. She sat in the car for 20 minutes I went inside the restaurant waited for her to come in and the waitress said, “I don’t think your friend is coming in, you better go see what’s wrong”. I thought she was doing women things, putting on makeup or doing her nails but she was waiting for me to come out and open the car door for her. When she got out she said “I’m the queen.” That’s when I told her about equal rights and if she really wanted to come back to my house, cook my dinner, wash the dishes, scrubbed toilets while I watch football I will open the door for her. She said she would open the car door for me on the next date, but I feet like a fool rather than a King. At first she was trying to change me and then she told me to never change and kind of acted like she was crying. But I never seen her cry.

The world is never going to change until we give women strength first. They fear talking because of violence but I fear talking out of fear of rejection and fear of making them cry. Or perhaps it’s just fear of saying something stupid. She said something that didn’t make any sense when I told her about the gas leak and I don’t even know what she said. Sometimes you’re so worried about what you’re going to say, I’m not listening very well.

Tattoos and age don’t matter very much if that is the person God fix me up with. God is capable supernaturally removing the tattoos or making me 30 years younger, if that is important to her. But you have to be careful what you ask for, because the wisdom of an older man might be more valuable than the strength of a young one. They fought to change the world in the sexual revolution but their fighting has only change the world for the worse and it needs to be changed back. Her possible anorexia is no different than my problem. I told my psychologist that I never wanted to live even when I was three years old. The psychologist said, “what do you do to a three-year-old who doesn’t want to live”. My thinking was you give them a hug but my father never hugged me and I hated hugging my mother as she was overweight and squeeze to tight. It wasn’t a warm fuzzy feeling. But even then I thought if I had a three-year-old or four-year-old who did not want to live I would give them a hug, put my arm around them and say, “if you think life sucks now, wait until you’re 40. You’re too young to even imagine how screwed up this world is.” But now my wisdom would say to the three-year-old, that all things are possible with God and of old world is all screwed up, you will change the world, if you try”. If I was born 50 years earlier I would have stopped the sexual revolution, the porn industry and maybe even killed Hitler. The answer to anorexia is similar, what do you say to a three-year-old who refuses to eat his dinner, spinach etc.?

My problem was men are generally raised to find someone they can love and I was more like a woman. I’m looking for someone to love me. I’m not giving my love away and I have to realize that’s what I have to do, to receive love. I’m so selfish. I can see buying women flowers and chocolate to get them to love me because so many men use these tactics to get sex. It would make me sick when some guy would laugh at the girl they bought a $.99 box of stale chocolates at Kmart and the girl had sex with them afterwards. One woman I knew worked at the bar had golden curly blond hair and was angelic looking. I asked her to go out with me but she said she was getting married. She said she knew the guy loved her because he buys her flowers and chocolate every week. Six months later she was back working at the bar and she looked like one of those rabbits my brother used to raise when he stuck it in a cage with another rabbit that refused to mate with it. My brother would stick to rabbits in a cage and at first they would fight a little bit and then they would mate. But some of them you knew you had to take them out of the cage before they killed each other. That rabbit came out of the cage with balls of fur missing and blood all over it and that’s what the girl looked like. It was a pretty good sex education raising rabbits.

There is going to be a lot more on this video series as soon as I can get all of my head. I really didn’t want to do any videos on the girl and so I got her permission but I don’t think I’m going to be able to tell her how I feel any other way but in a video or letter. She is just going to have to take the good with the bad. I wanted her to read these before I posted them but I don’t have her number and will see her till Monday. Even then I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get her phone number or talk.

Islam, Islamic poem, oppressed women,


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