Oh My God. Look at her. Just LOOK at her.”
“How can he go from ME to THAT thing? Has he had a fall and lost his final brain cell or what?”
“She is so gross I wouldn’t touch her with my cat’s barge pole.”
“Looking at her made me just vom in my mouth a little bit. She looks riddled.”
Welcome, everyone, to the after-math of a dirt bird. A dirt bird, to define such a term, is the kind of girl who just looks and acts like…well….trash. She’s the kind you know wouldn’t even pause before jumping into bed with a guy she knows is spoken for, the kind who will sleep with a guy whenever whereever without any thought of consequences. She’s basically a tramp. Without stereotyping, she probably gets naked for money in some form or another….I’ll leave you to decide what career path. Or, she’s just a dead-end girl with nothing going for her accept the double Ds and that’s the only way she knows how to get attention. She is the kind of girl every self respecting man would avoid at all costs. She’s also the kind of girl most guys I’ve dated decide to hook up with, after me.
What. Is. Going. On. With. These. Men.
Good girls with class and sophistication get bumped for slutty dirt birds all the time. Need I whisper these two words… Ashley Cole? He cheated on the beaut Cheryl with some monstrocity of a girl. Wayne Rooney for that matter too..did the dirty with actual prostitutes. Jude Law on Siena Miller. Tony Parker on Eva Longoria, Hugh Grant on Liz Hurley etc etc etc bla bla bla. Now these are all famous cases of cheating but I don’t mean he has to cheat with the tramp to make it an issue…if he hooks up with her after you or before you is also just as shitty. My issue isn’t the cheating, it’s this:
Why are men attracted to absolute dirt birds?
Malone (let’s not revisit that particular year) did this to the max, and lest we not forget my ex fiance who cheated on me with the ugliest chav I’ve ever seen, but for argument’s sake we’ll stick with recent love interest: Pig. Pig ended things with me because he didn’t want anything serious (don’t say you love me then DEAR) and since me he has fucked a stripper / exotic dancer / pole dancer / dirt bird. Delete where appropriate. Now forgive me but, if you had me on a silver platter, tell me then why you’d opt to head towards a stripper who is 1) uglier 2) fatter 3) chavvier than myself? If she was a stunner, I’d say baby boy well done she is a beaut. If she was head of MI5 or she designs her own fashion label or runs a law firm I’d say…baby boy congrats she’s a keeper. If she strips off or sells shots at a club wearing Primark knickers and looks like the wrong end of a dog…I mean wtf do you expect me to say to that?
I have an epic figure and could whip my kit off to hoards of cash every weekend and just shop and chill the rest of the time. I could sleep around, get my lips done, enjoy rubbing my pert arse on men’s laps for money and just exist in this manner. But you know…I have that thing people have…what’s it called again…you know…when you love yourself and respect your body….oh yeah…. DIGNITY. So no, no dirt bird behaviour from me. I won’t get my tits or pussy out on Instagram for hoards of sleezy likes. I could, easily. I won’t. I won’t dress up like a nurse and go around asking money off drunk old men for shots in clubs. I could, easily. I won’t. Why? Because I have a personality and high IQ level to match my chunky butt. So I know that I am worth more. Savvi?
When we break up with someone shouldn’t we aim to upgrade? Like…I don’t down-date. Down-date ain’t my style. I only go UP. And sure, I get sexually frustrated like the next guy. I want sex most days. Single life is tough man. But, I would NEVER EVER EVER go pick up some average looking chubby guy to fuck just for the sake of fucking. Yuk. I have more self respect than that. When I sleep with a guy…it’s because being around him makes me want to rip his clothes off, AND because I like who he is as a person. I can only fathom that Pig and I are world’s apart, and this is his ‘real’ level. True colours shining through after my light leaves. Maybe I saw what I wanted to see standing in front of me, rather than the reality of what was standing there? I just don’t know. Sad times though.
ALSO, if all these dirt birds are soooooo happy to screw dudes without any protection straight away, you guys surely must stop to wonder how many guys she also does that with too? In which case…erm…if she’s riddled you’re now riddled too mate. Gross.
It’s these types of girls that make life so hard for girls like me. I want to date you, not let you tear my clothes off my body. I want to be treated with respect, not expected to bang on the first date. But you see, how can love ever really thrive in London if the dudes know that they can go pick up these tramps when you gracefully decline? And while they’re busy picking up the tramps…you’re the one left with the complex about what you did or didn’t do that made him stick his penis in that feral hole instead. When I found out what Pig had been with since me I was genuinely upset. Firstly, it made me feel a bit sick. If I had known that’s who he goes for I wouldn’t let him come anywhere near me. Secondly, it made me feel like I was not good enough for him, in his eyes, but a stripper tramp was and deserved his nice comments and attention and turgid penis. All I got was “You Slut. Die.” I mean, a girl could drive herself insane trying to find any kind of logic over this situation.
It’s like having silk wrapped around you, but taking the silk off and rubbing up against sandpaper instead. What a choice to make.
Women should be ‘ladies on the streets and freaks in the sheets’ so some rapper once sang ages ago. I however like to agree on some level. Be the vision of feminine charm and class, and keep the goodies for the man who earns them. Now Pig…Pig has experienced my sheet etiquette. He knows the deal and he loves it. So he can’t even blame the “but I wanted to just have a night of hardcore fun” vibe because…I can take hardcore to next level. *ahem* He also cannot use the excuse that he turned to her for sex because I sent him packing. He left me…remember? All these decisions are his decisions. His life choices. I figured a Sexpert who digs bondage in the bedroom but holds class everywhere else was the kind of girl that you’d want to lock down and keep. I am clearly wrong.
So, when it boils right down to just air, what is at the heart of this dirt bird obsession with men? Do their egos (and their dicks) need constant stroking by any pair of hands they can find? Do they find dirt birds sexy because they are, in fact, a dirt bird? Do nice girls really finish last? Are men so very driven by sex that when they get the horn they’d stick it in a brick wall if they could orgasm in there? Or, do men, feeling so insecure that their ex girl was way out of their league, try big themselves back up with a girl they feel is totally beneath them? OR, do they try find the exact opposite of their ex girl to try piss her off and prove some sort of point? Or do they do it so they can sit up the pub and be like “banged this stripper last night” to a chorus of manly chants from their douche bag mates?
I think it’s every single one of the above. Every single point is a fact as to why guys behave this way. But let me share a secret with you, my dearest men, once your erection subsides and your STD check comes back negative (you can only hope) the realisation that you lost the best girl you’ll ever have will hit you like a punch to the chest – and no amount of dirty unprotected sex with skanky strippers or topless models or exotic dancers will ever be able to fill that hole. Like, ever.
And on that note…I’m out.
