I wish you 50-year-old creeps would just stop having imaginary sex with their equally as imaginary gf and go and crawl out the basement, touch grass, and get your delusions under control. If that happens, you'll have the slimmest chance of getting a bitch on your dick, but, considering the fact that you don't have enough brain cells to process the IMPOSSIBLE chance of that happening, just go and commit to a life of crime instead. It's much more successful and has much more dignity than what you currently possess in this state.