In the UK, if you live with a woman for two-years, you are now all but married when it comes to what happens when you split (i.e. you are split from your assets and they're handed to your girlfriend, and you may have to pay her a portion of your salary forever more.) In Australia, I believe it's only six-months.
Don't get me wrong, kids are great, and I'd personally love to be a dad. But unfortunately, children belong to women now. They are her nukes in her vast legally-backed arsenal of bombing you into financial submission. Women can have your kids aborted or just take them from you at any time, and your sole responsibility is to provide for them.
Giving a girlfriend any access to your cash is like leaving your wallet unattended at a kleptomaniac-shopaholic's conference.
They go nuts if you dump them when they expected you to pop the big (dumb) question.
Yes, it's spiteful and mean to laugh at them as they grow old, lonely, childless, and realise that their sagging tits aren't attracting male attention like they did in their pre-sagging days, but what the fuck, you can be sure every aging lonely spinster in her younger, shag-happy years laughed at 95% of men who tried to flirt with her. Women have the relationship power in their younger years, men in their later years. If you're 30+, and have a good career and a stable income, wield that power as ruthlessly as 30+ women did when they were young and in their prime. Grind their fucking faces into the muddy bed they and their fucking liberation movement inadvertently made for them. Enjoy bachelorhood, but more importantly, enjoy it blatantly in the faces of spinsters on the off-chance they get an opportunity to look up from their desks as they busily slog themselves into an early grave at some shitty job they've long since stopped referring to as A Career.
I know from personal experience that it's fucking hilarious seeing some single-mother skank's face drop when she realises a potential step-wallet for her bastard thug-offspring isn't taking the bait of possible access to her sloppy, used up, cavernous Hairy Highway To Hell.
Yes, it's eight-years old, but hearing a guy with the deepest voice in the world bellow "Humiliation!!" after you've just pulverised someone into bloody chunks with a circular-saw is not only a great way to feel relief from the pressures of working in an office full of gibbering skanks, it's also way better than the stupid gay fucking Sims, or whatever the hell kids are playing these days.
Feel free to suggest your own snippets of advice.