Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

(It means do not put too much effort into improving someone when they could leave, and you will have lost too much of your money, time, and energy/love. The moral is you should find a fat frog to begin with.)

The red pill is a curse, a bit like the toxoplasma gondii brain parasite, once infected, or more accurately once the infection is cleared, you just can’t look at some shit the same way ever again.

Once you rid yourself of the blue pill that tells you to fatten frogs for snakes, well, you just can’t look at some shit the same way ever again. No Sir.

When the wimminz realise that you have given up frog rearing, they will look at you with that peculiar “does not compute” crossed with “waiting for the predator to strike” look, and that shit you either know what I am about from first hand experience or you don’t.

But, once you have swallowed that red pill and had that particular meme / parasite burned from your brain, damn but that shit makes you aloof and philosophical, 100% of wimminz endeavour and 100% of niggerz endeavour, which means 95% of human endeavour, is like watching cows graze, it apparently has purpose, but it is devoid of all sentience.

A couple of PoF chats I have had recently…

Wimminz “I am waiting till I find someone who is my equal!”

AfOR “Well I suggest you become a lesbian then.”

whoooosh

Wimminz “Why are you so nasty to me when I lust after you so much?”

AfOR “Whatever”

whoooosh

Thing is, I’m more than willing to date a “fat frog”, but she better have got fat by her own efforts, I am totally unwilling to date skinny frogs that expect me to feed them, or partly fed frogs that got fed by other men, they are pump and dump material, and self made fat frogs are like the proverbial unicorn shit….. in theory there may be some out there somewhere, but scientists have yet to discover them.

Sometimes you think you may have found a potential candidate, but bide your time, chances are she is just holding her breath, blowfish style, or if you are really unlucky, so inflated with toxins she is about to burst.

And so I have become, Zen like, the Restaurant At The End Of The Hypergamy Universe for the wimminz, and they want to come along and choose from the menu of my accumulated wisdom and experience, they want to order scrambled eggs, but they want it without any milk or butter in the ingredients, and free range zero calorie eggs, and by the way I have no money so can I have this on layway where the bills never come due and I can sit here and keep ordering exotic dishes.

So I point them to the sign above the door, “Ain’t fattening no more frogs for snakes” and the sign above the bar “No credit” and the sign over the other door, “Exit”

They look at me like I am mad, and gesture around my restaurant at the end of the hypergamy universe, where all the tables are empty, and say but I have NO customers, you have to treat frogs nicely if you want to have customers, so I just smile at them with a well fed predator’s grin and say, “That’s the way I like it baby, this is MY place, and I LIKE IT LIKE THAT”

I remember Frank Future, he was delicious.

And so the penny drops, and most of them stomp out of the exit while telling me I have a very small penis and will never get a real woman (thank fuck for that, the plan must be working) and a few of them start to blubber that life just isn’t worth living, so they too stomp out of the exit when I direct them to the funeral parlour 5 doors down… of course, being wimminz, they end up in the massage parlour next door… hey, it was nearer and easier, right…