Skip to main content

Global Male Stereotypes: the Trophy Hunter

Described in glowing terms by his mates as: "A bit of a rogue...", this wannabe lothario likes his women young, dumb and any flavor of desperate. And preferably in large quantities.

Usually terrified of getting old and becoming what might be termed as boring, the Trophy Hunter has spent his life artfully dodging any woman who might want something more serious than the occasional 'booty call'. He just knows that if he were to allow any of his conquests the privilege of calling themselves by the title of 'girlfriend', he'll wake up the very next morning hog-tied, neutered and with nothing to look forward to except a stroll around the perennials at the local garden centre. The very thought makes him come over a touch queasy.

When challenged about his questionable behaviour, the Trophy Hunter just shrugs his shoulders, shoots his opponent a charming smile and announces: "I have no defense. I just love women... all of them!"

Then, without a smudge of shame, he'll resume his stalk of the bar and practiced play of the 'numbers game' - after all, to go home alone would be unthinkable. If there's anything the Trophy Hunter dislikes more than the prospect of matrimony, it's failing in his quest to pillage and conquer.

How to avoid becoming yet another notch on the Trophy Hunter's bedpost? You could try to run (although this will probably make him all the more determined) or you could simply gaze into his eyes with a slightly deranged expression, whip out a well-thumbed bridal magazine from your handbag and tell him all about the wedding Hope Chest you've been working on ever since you were a teeny little girl...

Comments

When I'm feeling particularly brave I call the TG my atrophy wife. Please don't tell anyone else.
A dad said…
I have a feeling I've been a notch on the female equivalent's bedpost once or twice...
Anonymous said…
Too scared to go into the real jungle to stalk a real tiger, he prowls the urban jungle and then returns to Mummy for his tea! Cute!
kendrick said…
The post is so instructive and helpful. thanks a lot.
company formation dubai
UAE offshore company

Popular posts from this blog

Apologies for being incommunicado this week and hope none of you out there are too distraught not to be receiving the usual almost-daily MotV missives. The reason for the silence is that I'm up to my neck, metaphorically-speaking, in research papers for my first grad course assessment. This experience has made me realise how rigorously un-academic I am in my thinking. It has also illuminated how reliant I am on red wine in order to get through endless evenings typing furiously on my laptop, not to mention the fueling of increasingly colorful curses that I feel obliged to aim at the University's online library system which consistently refuses to spit out any of the journals I'm desperate for (I refuse to believe this is 100% due to my technical incompetence...)Oh well, if this is the price one has to pay in order to realize a long-cherished dream then it's not all that bad... No one ever said a mid-life career change would be easy. Wish me luck!

Recommended & the Mahiki dance-off

My GFs and I went to Mahiki last night, great fun as usual but made me feel a bit old; it seems that Thursday night is the playground of the just-past-pubescent. Oh well. Good tunes though, so whatever.In between taking over the dancefloor - the youngsters may have youth on their side but frankly that shrinks to insignificance in the face of two decades of clubbing experience - one of my GFs and I got into a conversation about why so many people are full of bull.It appears that many people we come across are content to live their lives in a superficial way, skimming the surface of what life has to offer and equating the ownership of stuff (cars, houses, boats, jewelry, designer clothes) with happiness. They converse in terms of status, strut their possessions as a measure of their own self-worth, take themselves far too seriously, are quick to judge others, easily annoyed, complain a lot about very little and their worries seem to far outweigh their joys. Personally, I think all that…

Champix

Following on from the realisation that my lungs are filthy and if I don't give up the smokes soon I face a life of wheezing at best, off I trotted to see the charming Dr T.

Dr T, who's charming by virtue of the fact that he's less jaded than the other doctors in the surgery (in other words, he treats patients as if they're human beings with a right to NHS services rather than annoying fraudsters trying to gain sympathy for imaginary illnesses) promptly put me on potentially habit-forming drugs to get me off the evil weed. Something doesn't feel quite right about this but since I'm so pathetically grateful to have a doctor who's willing to give me more than two seconds of his precious time, I have acquiesced to his demands.

Anyway, this wonder drug is called Champix and promises to have me merrily chucking my smokes in the bin in no time. Or it will if I can get past the possible side effects, the highlights being abnormal dreams, nausea, flatulence, snoring, …