"Why the hell did you subject yourself to that," you ask. Well, it was a surgery I had to undergo because I forgot something very noble and kingly that I once believed, was sold and lived a lie for about a decade - a lie that you might be really bought into, as I was. Is a laser-powered penis-cauterizing session in your future? That's up to you!
I tell the whole sordid story of why I needed my dick lightsabered in chapter 17 of my book for men, Don't Stick Your Dick in a Blender...
...my HPV infection resulted in small genital warts that neither my wife nor I had noticed. “You need to get those removed before you have sex again,” the doctor explained. The wart removal options were acid or laser, so of course, I decided to get my warts burned off with the laser because lasers are awesome! It took about 20-minutes, it wasn’t excruciating torture, but it ranks up there as one of the most unpleasant experiences of my life. If you ever need that extra degree of motivation to not raw dawg a blender, just imagine receiving scalding, laser pinpricks all over your cock and balls! And then we still had to wait a month to have sex.
So I had stuck my dick in a blender (had sex with an inglorious and shoddy hoe, repeatedly - what's the plural of "hoe?" Hoes or hos?), contracted what's so predictably contractible, and had to deal with the scalding consequences. And believe me, the laser wart removal was just the tip of the consequence iceberg!
There’s a profound line in the classic movie The Man in the Iron Mask, where the noble musketeer, D’Artagnan tells King Louis XIV…
I loved this line and this movie is well worth a watch. It showcases old school men of courage and conviction, but I really haven’t lived up to it. D’Artagnan is telling the promiscuous young king that he can devote his life to one woman and be a better man for it. I forgot the heroic musketeer's words of wisdom and would need to be reminded of them, painfully.
For about a decade I embraced promiscuity, sleeping with almost any woman that would have me. I did this, at first, recklessly at the encouragement of my drinking buddies that influenced me more than I influenced them. And then under the guise of personal growth, in pursuit of novelty, adventure, and challenge. There were no new lands to be conquered so I turned my conquistador's eye toward women.
Inspired by Youtube pick up artist gurus, I devoted myself to the practice of the art of seduction across three continents. I approached women relentlessly in bars, clubs, farmers' markets, and as they strolled down the street from Medellin to Kyiv. And, frankly, I wasn't very good at it. I kept a spreadsheet (as all seducers worth their salt do) where I tracked my approach-to-dates numbers and eventually I deleted it because it was a reminder that, relative to others, I just wasn't a great pickup artist, or so I thought. I also didn't particularly enjoy the time spent or even the sex with women I met. The sex was, in a word, forgettable. I always wore condoms, and we all know how pleasant "safe sex" is. Sometimes I wouldn't even come. Sometimes I'd disappoint her by coming way too soon thanks to my extended periods of no fapping. Being hook-up sex, they didn't know how to (or care to) properly pleasure me, and I, them (of course!) It was the furthest thing from pure, passionate throw-caution-to-the-wind sex. What drove me as a seducer was not animal desire but instead the challenge; I've long believed that life was too easy, too comfortable, and sought out ways to make it uncomfortable. But, at the same time, it was selfish, I reveled in the thrill of the hunt without much concern for the costs of my promiscuity to the women.
I adopted a really toxic mindset from those Youtube pick up artists, who have now transformed themselves into generic "positive transformation" gurus: sleep with any woman you find attractive as soon as possible for the "reference experience" regardless of her character. Which appeals to the most basal of male instincts. I also came to hold a terribly popular reductionist view of male sexuality; that I needed perpetual novelty with women, that I was programmed to be promiscuous by my genes. That I'd be psychologically suppressing some important part of myself if I didn't constantly refill my life with new women.
My entire adult life I've prided myself on being a rebel and non-conformist, on breaking society's silly rules. I have a simmering low-level hatred for everything mainstream. I don't like professional sports. I don't like popular music. I'm an arbitrary contrarian; put me in a room full of atheists and I'll argue the merits of religion and put me in a room full of Christians and I'll challenge them. I never got a tattoo because tattoos as so dreadfully common. And I supported President Trump when it was unstylish to do so...
But in a major way, selfishly and with dire consequences, I conformed to society; I joined the ranks of the sheeple by embracing promiscuity, adopting cavalier, stylish attitudes about sex. Don't kid yourself, mainstream society from its movies and music to its TEDTalks and New York Times bestselling reductionist "sexperts," is doing its damndest to sell you on promiscuity...
Do what thou wilt and you'll enjoy a cinematic consequence-free life of sexual abandon like the good-looking people on TV!
...is what mainstream culture tells us over and over again thousands of times. Do it because it feels good, don't worry about the consequences. If you buy this lie, you're no rebel, you're just a useful idiot in a monolithic Ponzi scheme, as I was.
I met my now-wife at a language exchange in Sofia, Bulgaria through a wingman. In third place, behind challenge seeking and selfish pleasure, what drove me as a seducer was that I actually did want to meet a nice girl and start a family. Over the two years, I dated her, I would find myself thinking "She's the best I've ever gotten!"
And I discovered something that those pickup artist gurus rarely mention, monogamous relationship sex is a lot better! In a committed relationship with a quality woman, you figure out what each other like in bed, you can dispense with the pleasure-robbing condom, and you can embrace "the unbearable lightness of being" - create a moment together that you'd be content to replay for all eternity.
Going into the marriage I was certain of one thing; I would not have an affair. I would never be a cheater. And I've held to that, in fact, we've structured our life together in such a way as to avoid all temptation and opportunity to cheat. We both work from home and we only socialize together. I follow Mike Pence's rule: no "business dinners" with women without my wife there.
But, I held onto a promiscuous mindset; that I, as a man, needed to observe the beauty of different women. As a result, I enjoyed porn infrequently and would ogle the slutty photos that are unavoidable on social media. "I'm just giving myself a little visual variety," I told myself. I justified my behavior; my snooping around on the internet was a "preventative measure" - if I felt the desire to cheat, I'd relieve myself with images of other women. I never did feel the desire to cheat and, of course, my wife eventually found what I was looking at in my browser history...
I had explained to her in vague terms that I might use porn to satisfy my desire for visual novelty, but when she found the porn it enraged her and broke her heart. To me, it was just mindless "internet entertainment," but to her, it was a betrayal. When we dated and before we married we discussed what constituted cheating for us, we both agreed it was NOT cheating to observe and quietly appreciate (for a moment) the beauty of a stranger of the opposite sex passing on the street. I took this as my "hall pass" to indulge in a little porn use. With the clarity of hindsight, my porn use was a betrayal of the spirit of our marriage and commitment to forsake all others. And it had a dire effect on my wife's self-esteem and our marital tranquility for months.
My wife does not have a history of promiscuity as I do, so discovering my desire for the fakest of women was devastating. In one of the more difficult conversations of my life, she confronted me with what she had found and demanded change. Which, oddly, was a relief for me, it was a reason to quit a shameful bad habit that I didn't even enjoy very much. Properly motivated I've never returned to porn. What lingered though was a toxic self-belief, that I'd be somehow unfulfilled as a red-blooded man with testosterone pumping through my veins without a little visual variety.
This had to change, so I employed the epigenetic mindset transformation meditation method developed by Dr. Joe Dispenza. It really is a powerful tool for personal change and since that 50-minute meditation session, I've had zero desire to watch porn or peek at slutty photos on social media. In fact, now when attractive women cross my path in the real world I pay them about as much attention as you would a soap advertisement. My lustful eyes are now for my wife only. But, rebuilding trust is not so easy, with some regularity, I take her hands, look her in the eyes, and reassure her...
"I've never found any woman, no matter in real life or on the internet, any hotter, sexier, more ravishing, or more intoxicating than you! No other woman I've ever seen, no matter from my past or on the internet has been able to unleash that animal lust inside of me that I have for you! Absolutely no woman I've dated in Colombia or that I masturbated to has made me desire them like I desire you. I've never woken up with a raging boner with any of those women on my mind the way I did with you this morning (nearly every morning, really)..."
And it's the truth. My wife's beauty outshines that of the women of my past. And I don't just write that to compliment her, she has busty-petite model-like hourglass proportions. My desire for visual variety - blond, brunette, Latina - is gone! When I inevitably scroll past a slutty little profile photo on social media, if anything I now experience a bit of revulsion or boredom. Does this mean that I'm suppressing something within myself? No! For the first time in my life, I'm free sexually, with nothing to feel guilty about.
My mindset transformation has unlocked a new level of sexual hedonism for us. I want her now more than ever. In my eyes, my wife has just become hotter, sexier, more intoxicatingly beautiful. Her alluring curves, inviting boobies, shapely ass, and smooth skin awaken something within me that slumbered during my decade of promiscuity. Before I aligned my sexuality completely with my moral compass, I was never a truly sexual man, burning with desire, yielding boldly a formidable cock - I was just an opportunist trying to prove myself.
If you're a single guy sleeping with random women (or hoping to), "enjoying the decline" (and there's A LOT of decline to be enjoyed), after reading this you can no longer tell yourself that you're doing it because you're rebelling against society's silly rules - oh no, you're a quintessential conformist, a dutiful dogmatist, and an acquiescent consumer. If you're the kind of person who doesn't drink Coca-Cola because you understand that it's a seriously unhealthy cheap thrill consumed voraciously by the most unthinking only because of a constant barrage of misleading advertising, you should really re-examine any stylish, libertine attitudes you might hold about promiscuity. It's a shitty product you shouldn't buy.
Of course, a lot of single dudes reading this are thinking...
Well, that's a very romantic sentiment. I see some value in monogamy. I don't want to get my dick burned by a laser! But how do I meet a woman worth loving my entire life? Most of the women I met are barely worth a call-back!
Sadly, in modernity few women are worth loving your whole life, and trying to do so may even make you worse. There's a stack of filtering and advanced social dynamics strategies that must be employed to meet and seduce such a worthy woman. I break this all down in exhaustive detail in my book for men, Don't Stick Your Dick in a Blender: How to meet a nice girl instead - from a tantric husband with a better sex life than you!