Justin

[Justin @sewardin]

@emiliabrown5477 -She’s addicted to Snapchat, Instagram, or TikTok 🚩
-She has a promiscuous sexual past 🚩
-She drinks or gets drunk every weekend 🚩
-Doesn’t have great relationship with parents/siblings/family 🚩
-Has tattoos 🚩
-Doesn’t go to church/read a Bible/pray for others 🚩🚩🚩

[Justin @sewardin]

@ZainabSana2622 I think this should be a super popular opinion. Women are the gatekeepers to consensual sex. Lock it in, ladies

[Justin @sewardin]

@PaulJElliott @Castellani2014 Riley, Tork, McKinstry, and Vierling are all insufferable. I wish we could get rid of all of them. I’m still in on Kerry, but that’s wearing out at a slower pace

[Justin @sewardin]

@MyronGainesX @amalaekpunobi Recreational use only (3)

[Justin @sewardin]

@971theticketxyt If it was a volunteer position, I would stand by his side. But he’s getting paid more money than the average person to produce results. So I would say do better or get paid less

[Justin @sewardin]

@muheediva01 Women are opportunistic. You’ll do, until she believes she deserves/can do better. Thanks to social media, she can find the other guy so easily

[Justin @sewardin]

@BrianAtlas Bird claw hands appeared at the end. I actually thought they’d show up at the start

[Justin @sewardin]

@Kristinartz I really don’t know the answer to your question. I would however like to point out that rarely do men choose toxic women. Nice and decent will take you far with many men

[James Siters @JAS1961]

The metaphor of a woman's body count as an endless visit to a vast, enchanting candy store offers a vivid lens through which to examine the modern pursuit of romantic and sexual variety—and its often-unforeseen consequences.
Picture an immense, brightly lit candy store, shelves groaning under the weight of glass jars brimming with every imaginable sweet: glossy chocolates, tangy gummies, creamy caramels, exotic fruit chews, and rare artisanal confections. The air hums with promise. A young woman steps through the door for the first time, heart racing with excitement. She reaches for one piece—perhaps a classic favorite, simple yet deeply satisfying. The flavor bursts across her tongue: rich, familiar, perfect in its straightforward delight. If she were to wrap it carefully, slip it into her pocket, and leave the store right then, she could carry that single candy through the rest of her life. Day after day she would savor it, never tiring of its taste because it was her first true discovery, her deliberate choice to stop searching and start treasuring. Contentment would follow—quiet, steady, and real.
Yet the store is designed to tempt. Curiosity, that most human of impulses, pulls her toward another jar. She unwraps a second piece. This one is bolder, more intense—perhaps spicier or smoother or more surprising. In an instant the first candy, once everything she wanted, now feels a shade less thrilling. A subtle shift occurs in her palate: the bar has risen. “What else is out there?” she wonders. The aisles stretch on forever, and the lights are still blazing. There is no hurry, no closing time in sight. So, she samples more.
Each new flavor rewires expectation. What tasted extraordinary yesterday now registers as merely good next to today’s discovery. The quest becomes addictive: one more try, just to be sure. She tells herself she is educating her tastes, refining her preferences, exercising her freedom to choose. Exploration feels empowering.
Inevitably, some pieces disappoint. A sour note, a chalky aftertaste, a texture that grates. She grimaces, discards the offender without ceremony—“bad choice”—and moves on immediately. There is no pause for reflection, no mourning the waste. The next wrapper is already tearing open. The process accelerates: taste, judge, reject or chase, repeat.
Time, however, is not infinite. Years pass unnoticed amid the colorful chaos. Thousands of wrappers accumulate like fallen leaves on the floor. One day she glances up and notices the overhead lights flickering, the once-vibrant displays gathering faint dust. The cheerful music has softened. The closing bell is approaching—perhaps only minutes away. Panic flickers in her chest. She has not yet selected the one candy she will take home forever.
In haste she reaches for whatever remains within easy grasp: something attractive enough on the surface, something that still delivers a decent rush of sweetness. She commits to it—marries it, builds a life around it, or at least stops adding new samples to her collection. From the outside it may look like a settled choice.
Inside, though, doubt lingers like an unwelcome aftertaste. Every time she returns to that chosen piece, a quiet voice asks: Was this really the best? She remembers flashes from years earlier—a flavor so vivid it made time stop for ten perfect seconds, a combination she tasted once and never revisited. She wonders about the jar she walked past without trying, the one just out of reach now that the shelves are being cleared. At night the mind replays old memories, scrolls through mental snapshots of other people’s candies that still look shinier from afar. The stomach churns—not from hunger, but from the cumulative effects of overindulgence: too much variety, too little restraint, too many fleeting highs followed by inevitable crashes.
Contrast this restless figure with the woman who left the store early, content with her original selection. She walks lighter. She still smiles at the memory of that first unwrapping. No comparisons haunt her nights. Her satisfaction is rooted in commitment rather than competition. She has preserved the magic of novelty by refusing to chase endless novelty.
In the end the candy store closes for everyone. Those who sampled sparingly often leave satiated, grateful for the one flavor that became home. Those who tasted everything depart heavier—physically from excess, emotionally from regret—clutching a piece they do not fully love, surrounded by the crumpled evidence of a long, restless search. They carry the faint, nagging suspicion that the single greatest bite of their lifetime was one they tried, enjoyed for a moment, then casually discarded and forgot the name of long ago.
The store was never about how many candies one could collect. It was always about whether the one chosen could still taste like enough after everything else had been tried.

[Justin @sewardin]

@shubhvanii Women never care about men’s struggles. They only stand at the finish line and wait for the winner

[Justin @sewardin]

@FWPlayboy A woman who constantly posts or checks her Snapchat, TikTok, or Instagram is a walking 🚩🚩🚩
Females who do the above 👆 don’t make good long term partners. Kings, avoid them at all costs

[Justin @sewardin]

@JasmineRossn I don’t think so. Not enough in common

[Justin @sewardin]

@CamGirlsOnline_ Above all, men value peace. A couch and WiFi offer that

[Justin @sewardin]

@majestymasculin Edit: The guy that was tall, dark, handsome, and rich was really cute with his cold approach

[Justin @sewardin]

@aruvinchan TS is the closest thing we have to a human ostrich

[Justin @sewardin]

@GregEno Wenceel Perez. Why is he allowed in professional baseball?

[Justin @sewardin]

@sharm42453 No boy or man daydreams about his dream girl having a kid. This is not a thing

[Justin @sewardin]

@Kinza1278 I’m learning not to judge anyone in this situation. They might have gone through something. Many people are just trying to pick up the pieces

[Justin @sewardin]

@itszarasmirnova When women don’t have accounts to Snapchat, TikTok, or Instagram. That’s the hottest thing ever

[Justin @sewardin]

@_josephine0_ Situational. If the man is not a virgin, I don’t think it matters much. If the man is a virgin, I don’t think it’s in his best interest to marry a woman who’s not. He’s not equally yoked with her