Oh my Sabrina

1^st

Sabrina Quigley Chin

Commercial Model/Actress + Founder of HE & SHE Management. Current: PR Manager of XES/Shellys Marketing S/B

Malaysia

Current	Shellys Marketing Sdn Bhd / Brand: XES

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• my.linkedin.com/pub/sabrina-quigley-chin/21/b58/781

Contact Info

Background

Summary

Sabrina Quigley Chin, a commercial model and actress, famously known for her pan asian look, the petite lass is very much in the public eye. She amassed a varied portfolio in TV Commercials & Print Advertisements for big brands like Gold Heart Jewelry outlet posters, OGAWA Face of EZThrive, Shokubutsu, L’oreal, Nissan, Kenny Rogers Roasters, TruDtox, Malaysia Airports Print Ad Campaign, Tropicana Mall, A Cut Above, Amway, CIMB, Lumbermart & more.

For international commercials, such as Watsons advertisement in 9 countries, Exxon Mobil in Singapore, Billboard for Hilton Hotel in Beijing Wangfujing Pre-Opening Ad Campaign,etc. She was also into acting for ASTRO Chinese drama & carried a small role German drama which on aired in Germany & Australia.

The humble Sabrina has been interviewed & graced in magazines & papers such as The Star Newspaper, Virtual Malaysia Magazine, Feminine Magazine, Jasmine Magazine, FHM Magazine, NewMan Magazine, Shift Magazine, Cleo Magazine, Faces Magazine, NewLife Post Paper, Sin Chew Daily Newspaper, China Press Newspaper, NewTide Magazine Malaysia, Guang Ming Daily, The Heat paper & many more.

Sabrina decided to start up a modeling agency in the year 2009 that would helps the potential petite models to discover their talent in the modeling world. He & She Management has quickly made into international arena in the second year in their services of supplying talents for commercials, fashion shows, hair shows, road shows, exhibitions, beauty pageants & etc.

Besides an artiste & the Founder of He & She Management, she also play other roles in the industry as a Grooming Guru, Image / Fashion Stylist, Choreographer, Judge for beauty pageants & etc. Also, run Project Management & decorations for clients/event companies, etc.

As a Grooming Guru, courses are designed in a tuition basis to provide a complete attention to students to learn all the necessary ropes (beauty/make up, hair do, poses, expressions, etc).

Specialties:For business,please contact me via HE &SHE Email Address:
– sabrina.henshe@gmail.com
– sabrina@henshe.com.my
– henshe.freelancejob@gmail.com

To book myself for TVC, Print Ads & Acting, please contact me via my Personal Email Address:
– sabrinaquigley@gmail.com

A Cut Above – 1st Hair Look Book – 2007

A Cut Above – 1st Hair Look Book – 2007

MYC! News Magazine – Loreal Lip Gloss Fashion Spread 2007

Attitude – 2006/07

TruDtox Press ad @ The Star Newspaper 2007/08/09/10

Experience

PR Manager

Shellys Marketing Sdn Bhd / Brand: XES

December 2013 – Present (2 months)

Skills & Expertise

Sabrina Quigley also knows about…

• 20Acting 
• 20Publicity 
• 17Management 
• 17Music 
• 16Documentaries 
• 14Music Videos 
• 14Editorial 
• 13Video Production 
• 13Fashion 
• 13Marketing Communications 
• 11Video 
• 10Screenwriting 
• 8Voice Over 
• 7Digital Media 
• 7Broadcast 
• See 22+ 

Courses

Independent Coursework

• D’Models Basic
• Feminine U – Grooming Course

Recommendations

a few, slightly annoying thAngs

1. There’s this chap at work.

Who, every time he arrives at work, begins a ritual of cleaning his keyboard. Yes, keraaaaaak, kerrraaaaaaaak, he’ll wipe it every fooking day.

As if? As if when he wasn’t around some body sprinkled poison dust on it ?

Slightly annoying. Okay YUUGEELY irritaing, especially as I’m afflicted with that dementia-like annoyance, ya, OCD (go google it for full disclosure).

 

2. This same chap.

Who, every time he arrives at work, greets every body: “Hi, guys…”

Yes, every body around him receives a warm “hi”.

Except me. And I fucking sit directing across this chap. What gives?

How lah dei? Never mind, only slightly annoying.

 

3. This same chap knows fuck-all.

I announced this “breaking news” just now:

https://www.nst.com.my/news/nation/2017/10/291320/tony-fernandes-marries-korean-sweetheart-france

And he challenges it and says proudly that it’s “fake news”.

Well, well, time to eat your own dick, arrogant douche bag.

 

(Shall add even more as the day progresses Princess Frozen Thorn, wink, wink.)

 

 

Why you need to name one best war movie of all time

[this is a draft…it is work in progress:]

It is dead simple. And this is directed at the male species. Do you wish to be subjected to ridicule when small talk comes round to ‘war movies’ after a long, heated one about ‘hot movies’.

Then there is this thing about authenticity. If you happen to know about World War II tanks like I do you will be gleefully tickled or deeply horrified by all the fake WWII German tanks behaving like real ones running blitzkrieg-like across Europe.

The excuse is that none are available. Or if they were available there were not enough or they would not even fire up. So, conveniently for the movie-makers, American M24 tanks with a black cross painted on them are always pressed to do the honours.

But, as always, I am getting ahead of myself. What I wish to illuminate is that if want to be a real man (and nowadays, or so I’m told, ladies want to be real ‘men’ too whatever that may be). Back to the real man bit: as a man, you really ought to know some thing about war.

About how man kills man. Mercilessly. Oh yes and sometimes even over a woman. Helen of Troy I think it was. 300 was a bloody movie wasn’t it?

Let us not go so far back. For today’s project, let us just take on World War II, Vietnam and the Gulf wars.

So, if don’t even like watching men slaughtering each other, why bother?

And that is how you talk war movies.

There are not many Gulf war movies. Most movies

I’m back … sort of …

 

Well, well … apparently I have a fan. “A”, as in one. It’s a start I guess.

Good God, my last blog was in Sept 2015. Two years have just flown by.

So?

So … just let another two more slide by.

Because?

Because … nothing to write home about.

Oh yeah, mum did die a while back, last year I think. That’s all for now I guess.

 

HOW NOTHING HAPPENED WHEN A WHOLE LOTTA SHIT COULD HAVE … AND HOW I PRAYED (FOR DIVINE INTERVENTION)

My car, the KooNing broke down.

(Above, after she was pushed to the side of the road by some kind folks, out of harm’s way, thank God)

Big deal hah? It the fooking is when she chose to stop on the far right, that is almost in the middle, of a 2-lane road.

Which was at the end of a round-about. And at the end of a down-hill. Just the perfect place to practise braking hard and trying not to hit an idiot (that would be me) “parked” in an absolutely no-parking place.

I say to self: Switch on hazard lights. Open up boot lid. Like, pronto dude! And…

Pray. Hard.

Can’t be more dangerous right?

Pray some more. Harder this time.

No vehicle has kissed my KooNing yet. Many threatened to tho. I think they were practising their braking and swerving skills. And perhaps their swearing skills as well.

Allow me to dig up one of God’s proverbs here, 15:8 in the Bible, it says, “the Lord detests the sacrifice of the wicked but the prayer of the upright pleases Him.”

A million thanks my benevolent Lord. Because I wasn’t far into my 25-km journey, only 3km or so. Is it luck or my blessed Lord looking out for me?

Oh dear, so many questions for the Lord. Do I have enough faith? Do you?

Well, can’t let the Lord do every thing can we? So a call to my regular mechanic and up he arrives 33 minutes later. Tried to start the engine. No good.

Pray? No answer.

Answer comes in another way. Oh my.

A dude on a tractor drives up, parks it and suggests and offers to push poor KooNing out of harm’s way.

He was God sent?

No?

Well, believe it or not, another secondary school kid, a fat one at that, with no business to stop, stopped; got down from his pukka bike and helped the other two to push me (I was at the wheel obviously).

Halleluyah, I say. Double Halleluyah.

This is probably why I wrote this story. Or was it all about answered prayers?

Ah, wtf, all I want to lead this story up to is that, amazingly, that school kid is a Malay. And he did it automatically. Just like that. No questions asked. No wild waving from us to ask him to help. Incredible. Stupendous. Thank God I say.

The mechanic and tractor dudes were Chinese. All we need is an Indian to turn up, eh?

So Sehati, Sejiwa. One Heart, One Soul and all that shit. So the 58^th Independence Day theme is da best so far then.

Sniff.

Anyway, my miserable ass is still alive, the car is safe from being back-ended, the engine is still fooking dead, while the foreman by the name of Ah Fatt, is ordered back to da workshop since it’s no forking load of good him chit-chatting with me while waiting for the tow truck is it?

The boss, Daniel Lee Thien Soon of S Power, calls for the tow truck. But this one is not his regular one. Wait I must I guess.

And … is it another miracle? Today, September 2 just happens to be my … off day, so no sweat. So, bring it on. What, it’s only 2 pm? I’ll just watch the grass grow then.

“Rrrrrinnnng…” the tow truck dude calls up. Warns me, well informs me, not to be towed by any other truck that shows up (wah, competition must be hot, eh?). He instantaneously reels off his truck number and even tells me what colour his truck is (orange).

Half an hour of watching the grass growing later, still no show. What the fook? Ring him up. Apparently he is now in Cyberjaya picking up two Mercs which had crashed badly.

Oh look, grass-cutters. Three of them. I am bored aren’t I?

Hey, look again, grass-cutters cheat. Well, two of them anyway. They miss cutting the sides. They just “happen” to do the middle bit only then quickly cross the road to the round-about. Maybe they hate their pay package huh? No overtime. Or they missed reading the latest memo.

The third one did tho. Very meticulous. Maybe he has OCD (like me). Doesn’t miss a single blade, if you believe me, but he’s 1,000% better at his job than the other two. God will be pleased with him.

I believe that’s the way of the world huh? Yes, even in the career path of the lower end of the corporate ladder. And what would be the lowest of the low rung? A garbage collector?

But God still “delights in those whose ways are blameless” (Proverbs 11:20).

Ah, the orange tow truck arrives. It is 14:49 but it won’t tow. It’s more of a “ride” truck. It will pull your car up on its sumptuous bed whence it will royally deliver your darling to be unloaded unto your workshop of choice for a mere RM90.00.

(Above, a tow truck which is actually a “ride” truck.)

(Above, view from inside KooNing going up the truck.)

(Above, tow truck driver figuring how to get KooNing on board his Orange “ride” truck.)

So, off I go with him. Aiks, inside his cab is also installed his “ride”, yeah a woman. Okkkkkay. Sweet. Let’s not ask any awkward questions. Every man has that urge, kan? At least it’s not a “pretty boy” or “gorgeous lady boy”.

Not that … that is unusual nowadays.

Even my KooNing has had more than a 10-year relationship with the S Power workshop and she has only clocked up 189,898 kilometres.

Now let us get slightly technical on why my baby gave up on me. Step by step then.

Firstly, she was already giving me a huge clue by not changing up to a higher gear … meaning I should be gentle with her.

Unfortunately, I thought by rev-ing up, sometimes up to 6.500 rpm, I could persuade her to change up, which worked sometimes.

But on that fateful September 2^nd it did not. It died. And the engine shut down. Actually I blew the plug coil. Luckily, not the engine. Or was it divine intervention again? Because a blown engine can really make yer nose bleed no?

(Above, the plug coil killed by yours truly.)

(Above, installing the new plug coil. Just blown RM296.)

Now, what I should have done, as advised by mister know-it-all Ah Soon, is to find a spot to park the car safely, switch off the engine and simply re-start her. Like a re-boot. Kick her arse like. Some girls need that once in a while. And some just like it like that. Or am I wrong? Anyway, on to the “stories behind the story”.

Sekian. Catch you later alligator.

THE STORIES BEHIND THE STORY.

STORY #1: As usual, I assure you and give you my solemn assurance that I am not selling or advertising or whatever for S Power or whoever.

STORY #2: The logical (hey, I can be logical at last) reason I am so against taking out my hard-earned dosh on yet another vehicle is because it would be quite pointless.

After all, the KooNing is already my fooking 19^th. Yessiree 19 mutha-stoopiak-fooking vehicles since 1979. You want me to shamelessly name them all?

Here goes then. Unless stated as new, all the others are pre-owned.

#1:1979 new RM18,0000 3-door Honda Accord.

#2:1983 new 3-door Ford Laser S.

#3:1983 Mazda 323.

#4:1983 RM40,000 BMW 320 (E21) bought in 1984.

#5:1985 new RM63,000 4-door BMW 320i (E30).

#6:1989 new Nissan Sentra 1.6 (A).

#7:1978 3-door Honda Civic purchased in 1989.

#8:1985 RM108,000 Mercedes Benz 190E, acquired in 1992.

#9:1994 new Toyota Landcruiser which got stolen.

#10:1991 Peugeot 405 GTi purchased in 1994 when

#11:1983 BMW 323i (E21) bought in 1995.

#12:1997 new Audi A4 1.8i.

#13:199? Alfa Romeo 155 1.8i bought in 1999.

#14:1999 new 3-door Proton Satria 1.3 GLi.

#15:2001 new Renault Kangoo 1.4i.

#16:2002 new RM97,000 Mitsubishi Storm 2.5 (A) TDi.

#17:2004 Proton Juara 1.1 (A) bought in 2004, XIOC.

#18:200? 90,000km Proton Waja 1.6 (A) acquired in April, 2007.

#19:2004 new RM63,000 Hyundai Getz “KooNing” 1.3 (A).

#20:200? Pre-owned Volkswagen Beetle maybe?

STORY #3: Blood pressure normal 70/130. Weight 79kg. Waist 37cm. Life is good. Sort of.

STORY #4: If you don’t ride or do any thing slightly “dangerous” or silly before you turn 60 (I’m an ancient 59) you haven’t lived. I can bet you your last ringgit, okay US dollar, you’ll never treasure every hour (or even minutes) you are alive.

Alrighty then, the rest of you nerds, noobs, kooks, knobs and geeks get off that “league of nothing” puke-ter game and head for the great outdoors. Like now?

Take your first step on a trip to, oh Korea? Take up yoga. Go kick up a storm in a temple called Shaolin. Bungy jump. Learn to swim. Stop having sex for a month or longer (or do the opposite, have sex every day). Just do it.

Just be care-fool about it tho. No need to YOLO – observe all the safety precautions first. Me simply wants youse to cum and read some more of my shit.

Until then, kawabungaaaaaaa.

WHAT IS THE FIRST RULE IN TAKING AN ARTY OR EVEN RANDOM PICTURES?

Let me just tell you straight away.

One third, two third. Got that? Drill it into your head.

Every time, before you press that button: One third, two third.

Some thing like this:

WHY YOU SHOULD GIVE ME THAT SUB EDITOR JOB … AND HOW I GOT IT

So.

Here is my heart-felt plea for a job as a sub editor. Oh yes, you can copy it if you want. I won’t tell anybody.

Duck drumstick kwan loh mee topped with interesting newspaper: sure-fire yummy breakfast hor…

Dear HR Manager,

Here are a few reasons why you should hire me to be your Sub Editor:

Let us start with the pre-requisites.

1) Work the graveyard shift: As a copywriter I often work through the night. Yes, until the next morning. The art director and I must come up with several ideas by then. And we must be all bright eyed and bushy-tailed to pitch them as well.

2) Good command of English: With the minimum of words. Or just the right combination of words I can craft a compelling headline and hard-selling copy to go with it. Have been doing that for the past 30 years.

3) Eye for detail: Somebody has to do it. Without fail, it’s me, the copywriter.

4) Good news sense: Not unlike a good selling sense. To turn a story into a must-read story you will need to grab the reader with a heading that could be provocative or you’ll-miss-something or a myriad of other hooks.

Sometimes it can be easy when the news is already hotly desired. Other times, you’ll need an insightful sub editor to flash it out. And in double-quick time too!

Yet…it’s just another day at the office for me.

So what more can I offer? Well, I am an art-based turned writer. so, my eye for beauty goes beyond the words that I have to manage.

Additionally, I also have an inherent marketing sense – honed from decades of working on building brands.

So, if you are looking for some one who can do all of the above-mentioned tasks and still able to cobble a minimal-interest story into a hey-I’m-glad-I-read-that news bite…do give me a shot or shout.

Last but not least, I am happy to inform you that from the write-up above I got hired as an Executive Sub Editor but the salary is disappointing (compared to my copywriter’s pay anyway).

Can Malaysian Insider offer more? Would it be worth it to move? I shall be waiting with bated breath then..

Cheers.

HOW I GOT BACK WITH THE AMBER . . . AND WHY

I confess, I know two, wait, three Ambers.

Looks like everything is turning up in threes these days.

Featured, on the extreme left, is the first one. She’s daughter numero dua by the name of, you guessed it, Amber Koo.

Next up, I know her, she does not know me but I’m following her on facebook:

https://www.facebook.com/therealamberchia?fref=ts

Lastly, my good wife, Amber Hoh.

Oooops, wrong picture, that’s me. Here’s the correct one:

Also wrong one. This one:

Ummm, no, no, that’s what she produced. This one then?

I wish. . . right? Oh, never mind…

HOW THE FAYE GOT HER OIL CHANGED…AND WHY I’M ON WIFE NUMERO TIGA (GILA).

You, yes, you Alvin Yan, this story is for you, well, sort of.

Do not get any funny ideas. “Oil” means oil. Not juice. Or cum. Or, look what you’ve made me do.

So Faye means “Faye”. Just like HMS Faye. And ships and cars and motorcycles are always of the female gentle. At one time hurricanes and tornados were always a “she” too. But now there are male God’s “natural” destruction … umm, natural wonders.

So cheong hei me ah? What to do, tell story mah, must pusing sini, pusing sana sikit only keep you interested.

Pix: The Faye cooling off in her home driveway.

Faye is my new … but unfortunately already pre-owned (first owned by one Stephen Christopher Ewan) and first registered on February 11, 2015. Of course to every one else in the whole wide world, it is only an Austrian engineered, ready-to-race KTM RC 390 (373cc only, I guess 390 sounds sexier, no?)

Oh dear, so many side stories and brackets. I like brackets, so never mind lah, let’s press on, shall we?

I do need another beer right about now Alvin. I just polished off one big bottle of Tiger. How about it? One more?

Never mind, just take a look at how the Faye compares with her peers:

I always name my ride. The last two-wheeler, which I traded in for Faye, was called Kitty. She was a Kwacker, I mean Kawasaki KLX 250S (CBU, RM24,800 only).

Let me repeat that: I always name my ride. Well, nowadays not any more.

This is my last, I pray.

So let me name them for you to count.

Forgive me but some are not 100% correct designations: Honda S70. Yamaha 100. Kawasaki KX 100. Suzuki TS 250 (when I was in Canterbury, Kent. Rode in snow, you should try it Alvin). Honda XL 185 (back in Bolehland). Honda XR 250. Kawasaki KDX 250. Kawasaki KLX 250. KTM 250 EXE. Kawasaki KLX 250S. KTM RC 390.

 Pix: Kitty sulking at the Chia Motor Racing shop.

Want to know why I name them? No? I’ll tell you anyway. It’s in this quote:

“A woman marries a man hoping to change him. But he never does (change). A man marries a woman hoping she will never change. But she always does (change).”

What has that got to do with naming my vehicles?

Hey, you want me to tell you every little thing? Go Google it. Or ask Elizabeth Taylor. But you cunt. You’ll have to live one wife at a time to know what the fuck I’m whining about. FYI, I’m on wife number three. And it’s still tough as shit. So suck it up yo.

No, I’m not bitter. Wife, I mean life happens and you’ll just have to face it. Oooh, I feel another quotable quote cumming.

“You are blessed if you have foresight. But you are a thousand times blessed if you have insight.”

And I’m not going to explain that either … because this one you can go mad on that Google thingamajig.

So, liddat loh. Eat, sleep, rave.

And I’ll tell you about my 19 or is it 20 four-wheelers (and counting) another day.

Oh shit, I forgot to tell you about Faye’s oil change. Just a normal first thousand service. No big deal.

Da gigantic woweee is that Faye won’t let you cheat on her. You’ll have to open her hole (oil filter orifice, about 1 inch in diameter if you are interested in that sort of detail). There is a sensor that will detect that the oil filter has been changed. Genius eh?

 Pix: There’s that clever oil filter hole and how it’s done.

All this was done without fuss at Chia Motor Racing. Wonderful, terribly polite and friendly service. I think it’s because they serve a lot of ang mor, I do mean Caucasian customers. Think only ah, don’t judge me.

  Pix: The Faye nailed, luckily not in her belly.

So at 1,241km Faye is ready to race again (after removing that pesky nail of course). Next service 7,500km.

Sekian. Catch you later, alligator.

THE STORIES BEHIND THE STORY.

STORY #1: I assure you and give you my solemn promise that I am not selling or advertising or whatever for KTM, Chia Motor Racing or Papa Johns or Starbucks or Grandma Teh or whoever. Ooops, I just mentioned all of them.

STORY #2: Dosh spent on first service: RM116.00 for two 2-litre synthetic engine oil (used only1.5 litres; remainder kept for next service). RM38.00 for oil filter. RM45.00 for doing all that servicing work.

STORY #3: Lost 2 kg by chucking out the passenger pegs. Who am I kidding? Will the wife ride the Faye? Will I pick up any SPG (sarong party girl)? So, off with them and save 2 kg. Duh … as if I can gain 1 nano second in pick-up. Oh look: a pun. Pick-up, get it? Oh, never mind.

STORY #4: If you don’t ride or do anything slightly “dangerous” or silly before you turn 60 (I’m an ancient 59) you haven’t lived. I can bet you your last ringgit, okay US dollar, you’ll never treasure every hour (or even minutes) you are alive.

So, Alvin Yan, get out there (oh, you are already out there fishing).

Alrighty then, the rest of you noobs and knobs and geeks get off that ‘puter game and head for the great outdoors.

Take your first step on a trip to, oh Nepal. Take up yoga. Go kick up a storm in a temple called Shaolin like Eugenie. Bungy jump. Learn to swim. Stop having sex for a month or longer (or do the opposite, have sex every day). Just do it.

Just be care-fool about it tho. No need to YOLO – observe all the safety precautions first. Me simply wants youse to cum and read some more of my shit.

STORY #5: I’m saving the wife #3 story for another day (see pix below, one of them must be wife numero tiga).

Until then, kawabungaaaaaaa.

Alvin’s five types of vaginas.

I think I need to tie up some loose ends of Alvin’s brilliant vagina post.

Reducing it to five kinds of vags will certainly make it neater for instance. So here goes:

In the eyes of guys, there are five (not six as noted by Alvin) kinds of girls, in ascending order of attractiveness:

1) Girls they won’t fuck, settle down with, or even befriend who are more or less the same as girls they won’t fuck or settle down with, but would befriend.

2) Girls they will fuck once, but will never settle down with.

3) Girls they will fuck over and over again, but will never ever settle down with (like the infamous Vivian?).

4) Girls they will fuck over and over again and will settle down with, given sufficient time and boredom or unavailability of other girls.

5) Girls they will fuck over and over again and will settle down with instantly!

Type 1 (now merged with type 2) is obvious. These are the super-obese whales, ugly or old or the ones with disabilities (whatever they may be), the ones from a totally-different socio-economic background (e.g. beggars), old women, etc. Guys wouldn’t even befriend these, because it’s an embarrassment to even be seen in public with them, and they probably have nothing in common anyway.

Type 2 is less obvious. Why would a guy fuck a girl once, but not twice or more? The answer is simple: for the experience, to tick a checkbox on his bucket list, to add a number to his lay count easily. These are usually “novelty girls” that guys fuck just to be able to say they’ve done it, even if they have zero attraction to them, e.g. fat chicks, black chicks, chicks of a certain nationality/religion, MILFs, decent-looking but disabled chicks, etc.

Type 3 is where most girls (women? females?) fall into. They think that they’re hot shit that some guy is sleeping with them, but guys will fuck just about any hole, because they honestly have nothing to lose. As a type 3, you think you’re sizzling stuff just because he chose to fuck you?

Congratulations, you’re part of the 90% of women he will fuck just for sport. When he’d fuck you over and over again while avoiding all commitment, you’re not friendzoned, you’re fuckzoned, which is guys’ way of telling girls that they’re unworthy of a relationship, but they’ll still keep the girls around for ego purposes. Girls become type 4 because: 1) they’re just not girlfriend-material (usually that means she’s too slutty), or 2) the guy thinks he can do better, so he holds out.

Type 4 is a little fuzzier. May be it should be another type 4?

Technically, type 5 is a SUPER-RARE direct result of a category 4 girl who eventually turns out to be less slutty than expected, or it becomes painfully obvious that she’s as good as it gets for him, and he’s just tired dating around and just wants regular sex and companionship without having to seek for it all over again.

Still, it’s rare that, once a guy decides that she isn’t good enough, he’ll change his mind. It simply doesn’t occur very often but shit happens yo.

He knows what he’s able to get, and, if someone out of his league falls into his lap, he will grab her with both arms, a leg and whatever. The reason he didn’t is that she’s below his league, and he knows it. Any guy with self-respect will not date down.

Type 5 is obvious. If you’re a guy, she’s hotter than you and hotter than you’ve ever done before, it would be an utter honour to even be associated with her.

She’s classier, slimmer, prettier, sexier, and more refined than any other broad you’ve tagged before — a super duper fabulous catch.

It will be a privilege for a guy like you to be with a girl like her. If you could settle down with her immediately … all your male and female peers will turn green with envy, and very very few will feel genuine happiness for you, because they’ll be clouded with utter envy and jealousy.

As for you, you lucky bastard, you can parade her around like a trophy and shout loudly everywhere that she’s your girlfriend. Guys know that a type 5 girl just doesn’t fall out of the sky, because type 5 girls are going after guys who’re above their league too, usually young, rich guys.

What’s really frustrating is that very often girls from the other types mistakenly have the illusion that they belong to type 5 and start to have the audacity to expect the princess treatment.

When they don’t know their place, and they try to expect girlfriend-like treatment (e.g. real dates, birthdays, anniversaries, cuddling sessions, picking her up, flowers/gifts, sex withholding, etc.), it makes guys just want to say, “Really? Are you kidding me? Do you even know where you stand, and have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”

Like I would settle for you … for fuck’s sake.

What an insult it is to think that you’re the best I can do. Girls need to be super-realistic and shoot for guys who see them as a type 5 girl (i.e. guys with no options). If you go beyond, you have only yourself to blame when you’re outbid by your hotter, younger, skinnier, sexier competitors.

Trust Alvin (and me), when a guy doesn’t want to commit or settle down, it’s because he either has access to better sluts out there or he knows that he can do better. There’s zero stigma to being single for a guy, so really they don’t mind holding out.

Like it or not, girls, this is the way it is. You can whine and bitch about it. You can only improve yourself to compete better.

But what’s the point of classifying them anyway? Hmmm.

Beats me.