The Measuring Sticks of Life, OR, Why I Can't be with a loose woman

Life is kinda like a board game in that it has a simple objective. But games are a bad analogy for life because people associate them with fun. It ain't all about fun. Sure you can have it, but that can't be your measuring stick of life if you intend to accomplish anything of substance.
The 0bjective of life is to build yourself to a point where you can have offspring, and raise them to be successful adults capable of doing the same thing. Everybody's idea of success if likely to vary, but my idea of success is to be able to make some kind of contribution to humanity. You have to try to make things a little better than they were when you started out. Otherwise, everything is to shit.
As an adult, it can be argued that the accomplishments and relative success of your offspring are the measuring stick of your own success. If you raise good kids, you've done your job. Moreover, as a man in particular, the greatest thing you can do to fail as a man, husband, and father, is to raise a little girl, to become a promiscuous woman. (If you don't believe me, just ask any good father with a daughter what his deepest darkest fear is that doesn't involve death.) The reason is obvious, and self-contained. If I personally raise my daughter to become a "ho" in the parlance of our times, I have quite simply, FAILED. High school, college, law school, my career, everything else I could have done will be overshadowed to me by that glaring hole. Not to say that I don't care about my son, but it's different. It's fathers and daughters, and mothers and sons, we all know this. You have a different sensitivity about your opposite-sex child because you know your own sex, and you know what they're trying to do to you little girl (or boy as the case may be). If I select a woman, to be my children's mother, and she's laid out with 2 dozen men, what can I really expect her to impart to my daughter but more of the same? For whatever reason, I understand there may be extenuating circumstances, but the result of her mix of nature and nurture was hoedom*. Wouldn't I be a fool to make that gamble on the future prosperity of my little girl?
Think about it. If you don't want your kids to grow up and become drug-addicts, you don't go looking for your future mate at the heroin-overdose clinic. Why should hoedom be any different? To me, it's not. It's that simple.
So my only request is this: If any woman ever finds herself interested in me (for what reason I couldn't imagine but that's a different topic), if you've got a body count anywhere near half of your age, keep right on walking and save us both the trouble.
I'm out.