Pancakes: Tool of the devil
On the This is Trouble blog, the Red Pill Lothario and former Return of Kings contributor known only as Kyle has issued a dire warning to contemporary men: women will “drag you towards mediocrity” if you let them.
The worst offenders? Pancake-eating women.
I mean, let’s just say you’re a super cool dude who’s maybe three months into a relationship with some hot pre-wall broad. Obviously, Kyle notes, she’s totally into you due to “various measures: your health, your wealth, and your overall drive motivation, etc.”
That’s cool. But then she starts doing crap that interferes with your ability to have, like, the best health, wealth and drive motivation. Like, the stuff that made her into you in the first place!
Instead of “encourag[ing] you to wake up at 6am on a Saturday to hit the gym” and work your side-hustle selling juice or writing ebooks on how to get hot babes, or whatever, she JUST WANTS TO SLEEP IN.
[G]irls flat-out self sabotage the very thing they’re attracted to by trying to keep you in bed with them all day, sleeping in and just being a lazy slob in general.
Come back to bed, honey, these torpid Sirens cry.
They will literally hold you back in moving forward because women have no sense of needing to move forward, EVER.
And that’s where the pancakes come in.
Even the ones that are in shitty positions in life (no career, no skills, no goals) have this self entitlement complex that a man is going to save them – SOMEDAY. It’s why they sit around in the mornings and eat pancakes rather than get up and be productive.
The pancakes! The horror!
Now, if this thing about pancakes seems like a weirdly specific complaint about contemporary women, well, that’s because it’s really a complaint about one particular woman, that woman being Kyle’s current girlfriend, an admitted pancake eater who, on one recent occasion actually delayed his Saturday morning trip to the gym by an hour.
You see, Kyle has got important shit to do. Not like you women.
Most girls simply go home from their 9-5 hellhole and turn on the TV, killing their brain cells and souls by watching shit involving the Kardashians. The smart girls go to the gym, and spend time preparing their own meals to better themselves in that sense. However, I’ve yet to meet a girl who does the gym, meal prep, and everything else I do on a day-to-day basis to keep moving forward on the self improvement and freedom path.
Preach it, brother!
That usually involves the 9-5 gig, a minimum of 2-3 hours a work on side work (10+ a day on weekends), an hour workout, and I still make time for friends, dates, etc. The trick is that I know how to get by on little sleep, I minimize my commute and I don’t waste any time.
Most women just cannot handle what I do on a day-to-day basis.
Hell, just hearing about all this makes me tired. No, not tired. What’s that other word that’s sort of like tired? Bored.
So anyway, Kyle was just going along living his impeccable life. And then came The Morning of the Pancakes.
Kyle recounts this terrible ordeal in graphic detail.
He and his girlfriend of one month are lying in bed on a Saturday afternoon.
I had wanted to go the gym at roughly 8am, and she said she wanted to join me. So of course we didn’t get there until about 9am.
I believe this is a violation of the Geneva Conventions. It should be, anyway.
At the gym, as I worked through a brutal superset workout…what did she do?
Walked on the treadmill.
Damn treadmill-walking lazy-ass woman!
Oh, and she did two whole sets of planks with me at the end.
Correction: Damn treadmill-walking, two-plank-set-doing lazy-ass woman!
Brace yourself, dear reader, because it gets worse.
After we got back from the gym, she really wanted to go and get pancakes.
NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!1!!
And steak and eggs sounded like a good post-workout meal to me. I relented and went, and in Los Angeles, $30 is about the minimum you can spend on any meal for two.
Somehow I’m guessing that Kyle here is not much of a tipper.
Finally, another hour and a half and $32.67 later, we were full and headed home.
Yeah, he’s definitely not a good tipper. I mean, given that he’s holding onto his resentment that the meal for two cost $2.67 more than the arbitrary amount he expected the meal to cost.
But she didn’t have work until 2pm – so of course she dicked around my apartment (of course, didn’t make herself useful and clean up my apartment or anything) until 1:15pm…and ended up being late to work anyway.
By the time she was gone and I settled into a working groove, it was 2pm and half the day was gone.
A moment of silence, please, for the half of Kyle’s Saturday so cruelly murdered by his girlfriend.
Rest in Peace, Half of Kyle’s Saturday. Rest in Peace.