Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

I was, last night, fucking a crazy that is… comes from the school of do as I say, not as I do, I guess, but anyway, there I was, fucking this self confessed crazy bitch who fried her brain’s biochemistry years ago on ganja.

OK, I wanted a fuck, but really the reason was this, when I started talking to her she reminded me of a crazy chick I knew and fucked in around 1980, bitch would go moo and maa and all that shit and smoke some grass and then take a handful of mogadon, and then we would get it on, crazy bitch but an interesting fuck.

So I took it in my head to do some brideshead revisited and fuck a similar ish crazy bitch 30 years later in real time, but 20 years later in crazy bitch time, as this one was 40 and had been hitting the pills for 20 years.

Shit that amused me back then was frankly boring as fuck when it came out of this bitch’s mouth, heard one delusion / psychosis heard em all, heard on tale of infantile sexual abuse heard em all, heard one vile attempt at poetry heard em all, heard one the aliens mind control nazis po-lice and coming to get me heard em all…

… and so it was that at 11 pm when I had finished plundering all her holes and dumping my cum, I did the whole make me a coffe bitch thing and got dressed, and set my phone to do the Fake Call Me thing in five minutes, drink my coffee, phone goes off so I give her the whole Babe-I-gotta-go-the-mothership-is-calling-we-are-moving-the-invasion-date-up thing and get the fuck out.

And so it is that as midnight strikes I am sitting in my warm german mothership listening to the muted beat of the straight six diesel at 2500 RPM on roads largely deserted because of the ice and snow, reflecting on the passage of 20 years of self medication on crazy bitches, and brothers, there are a lot of them out there..

And I move on to the other bitches on the production line and realise I have done it again, I have reached that stage beyond asshole game and arrogant asshole game and extreme asshole game and gotten to “meh” game, that cycle where my desire for new cunt is sub-zero, and any amount of pleasure extracted from dumping my cum is always exceeded by my distaste for the bitch involved.

As the miles hum by I come to realise something, the end of 2012 and the beginning of 2013 has seen a startling shift in wimminz, and I was too close to the cunt to see the trees.

Bitches are starting to get desperate and scared… it’s the fucking swansong and they know it.

In the last six months bitches have NO money, stories I have seen and heard, interest only mortgage (by definition, NONE of the capital paid off) with a year to run and ZERO possibility of a re-mortgage, bitches have to choose between buying food or buying heating oil, bitches have to choose between buying food or putting fuel in the car to come see me and get fucked, bitches being told their jobs are at risk, and they realise they have no savings and debt falling out of their asses, bitches considering getting back with their ex’s, because the ex is still working and has money, bitches who are accumulating broken appliances around the house, because they have to money to repair or replace, and so, in short, bitches who are getting more desperate and ironically MORE demanding, they less they have to offer and the greater their need.

Take back the night and take back the streets, the bitches are getting scared, because they can walk through the city in the day time in a week day and see less people about, less shoppers, very few people carrying bags from shops, and they are starting to feel alone and vulnerable, not a part of the crowd.

The city I was in last night fucking crazy is known for being an an area that paradoxically lost most of the native industry and so is poor, but also had a shitload of development money thrown at it, so there are gleaming new city centres and white elephant buildings, and out in the burbs it is all mass unemployment and petty crime and drugs.

The younger wimminz, in their twenties, can trade cunt for drugs, the older wimminz hand over their cash cards to the dealers who go to the hole in the wall every week and draw out the monies paid in by the state for child benefit and then hand over the dope.

Wimminz who fuck up have cash bounties put on their heads for s severe beating, and even I raised my eyebrows at the prices, spoke to one chick living in fear, she knew who put the bounty on her, and she knew it was £100, but she can’t even earn that sort of money on her back, not even at £10 a time because it is all she can do to get one guy to pay £10 to fuck her, mark to market economics at its best…. fuck me back in 1980 it was 50 quid for a good beating, and 50 quid in 1980 is worth at least 500 today.

I drove into the place at around seven pm, and from the motorway exit to the bitch’s flat I did not see one single pub or shop open, most of what I did see was not merely shut, but boarded up…. times are hard when not even the paki’s will move in and open a corner shop, and not even the chinks will move in and open a takeaway…

…and this isn’t even a sinkhole estate, this was a *good* area of the city in question…

To be honest this was largely why I decided it was time to do some fucking crazy, she lived in a city I hadn’t been to for a while and it was an excuse to go there and drive through it, thinking when she opens the door I can always decide no way and walk away, but when she opened the door it wasn’t that bad so I stayed and fucked it and got distracted from my alternate purpose by her crazy.

I’m glad I did, because otherwise the local picture is the only one you see, and you can end up with confirmation bias.

I’m also glad I did because fucking crazy was enough to tip me over the edge and complete another cycle of fuck / don’t fuck.

I’m also glad I did because the serenity of cruising back along deserted highways in the mothership gave me time to think and realise that lately the wimminz have been getting desperate and nastier with it.

I’m glad I did because all these things are feedback loops, they all play a part in my losing interest in fucking bitches for a while, and my losing interest in fucking bitches for a while allows me to see all these things a little more clearly than when dumping some cum is on the agenda.

As an interesting anecdote, fucking crazy is also convinced that 2013 is when it starts to go bad for real.

Fucking crazy reminded me of an old story, allegedly true. (this is from before the days of mobile phones and breakdown cover)

Guy is driving along a road in the country, and THUMP, gets out and finds one wheel has fallen off his car, the wheel is easy enough to retrieve, but of course the 4 wheel nuts are all long gone.

Guy starts cursing and kicking the shit out of the wheel in question, when he hears giggling behind him.

Guy looks around and sees a brick wall “St Eustatic Mental Hospital” on a sign, and this fella leaning on the wall.

Fella leaning on the wall says “HI, I’m a patient here, got a cigarette”

Guy thinks what the fuck, could do with a smoke myself to calm down, so pulls out the smokes, hands one to the fella and lights both up.

Fella says “Why don’t you take one wheel nut of each of the other three wheels, and use those three nuts to attach that wheel?”

Guy is impressed at this, and says so.

Fella says “Listen mate, I’m fucking crazy, not stupid.”

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• Noises (wimminz.wordpress.com)
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