When I was raised as a young boy, the principle of inconvenience applied.
If I inconvenienced my father by using the last of the milk, I was inconvenienced in return, by being made, immediately, no matter what I was doing or wanted to do, to go to the shop and get some more, thus minimising further inconvenience to my father.
The principle was that I could only be taught not to inconvenience others, by being subjected to immediate inconvenience myself, until such time as I rectified that which I had caused the injured party.
Furthermore;
- My inconvenience was to persist until the inconvenience I had caused another had been remedied.
- There was no scalar relationship between how minor the inconvenience I caused the other, and any upper limit on my own inconvenience in rectifying the inconvenience I had caused them.
This was back before the days of VCR/PVR etc, so being sent to the shop could mean missing the one airing of Dr Who for example.
If I had broken something worth 5 bucks that I had to replace, it was of no consequence if the only way that I could immediately raise that 5 bucks was to sell a toy that I had been saving up for for three months and had just paid 50 bucks for to the kid next door, that was *my* problem.
There were times, as a small boy in short trousers, where these lessons were so infuriating that I would lie in my bed and dream of planting brambles and thorns on my parents graves when they eventually dies, and dance around singing Hallelujah… lol…
There were times when I said out loud to my dad that all these rules and discipline and stuff just wasn’t fair, he told me straight, “Nobody is keeping you here boy, I’ll drive you down to the children’s home right now if you don’t want to live here any more.”
Needless to say, I decided that life not being fair was better than being an orphan in a kids home…
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When I apply this principle to others (and lest you think I am a hypocrite, to this day I still apply it to myself, both in my personal and business dealings) that rather than punishment or abuse or beatings or anything else, just immediate inconvenience in return for any inconvenience to me, until the inconvenience to me is remedied, I am and was of course accused of being abusive and controlling and evil.
Pure coinkydink of course that I am talking about me applying this principle to a wimminz, or via her to her womb turds, and it sudden;y becoming controlling or abusive or evil behaviour on my part.
I’m not quite sure why, but today it struck me that much of what is wrong with the world today is based upon a lack of the simple principle of those who cause inconvenience to others being themselves inconvenienced until they remedy the issue.
It was of course FUNDAMENTAL that simply offering to pay for a litre of milk was a non starter, that does not remedy the inconvenience of opening the fridge to get some milk for my latte and finding none, when I left a litre in the fridge last time I opened it two hours ago.
The remedy to not having milk in the fridge was for the offended to place milk in the fridge, and as soon as humanly fucking possible, because I am still waiting for my fucking latte.
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Some years ago in a foreign country I cut across the traffic to a petrol station, long and short of it was I caused an accident in which I hit another car with mine.
The police turned up, took all the details, nobody was injured, just bent metal.
I said to the other guy, how much is your car worth? He told me, I said I’ll draw the cash and hand it to you within 24 hours, that way you can buy another car and not have to wait weeks for the insurance, frankly I was relieved enough nobody, inc his pregnant wife in the passenger seat, was injured.
24 hours later as agreed we all meet in the police station, the police ask the guy if he is happy, he says yes, the guy paid me, just off to look at another car, police ask me if I am happy, well, as happy as can be expected (seeing as I am several hundred thousand pesetas down and had to cancel a holiday, but hey, they didn’t need to hear that) just glad nobody was hurt. So we all go across the road to a bar and have a drink, done and dusted.
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I have had the same in business, customer pays me, I build the thing they want and ship it to them, it arrives smashed up by the courier, or missing entirely etc.
Do I tell the customer I will chase it up with the insurance etc?
Do I fuck, I immediately order bits and build a replacement, and leave the customer out of my ongoing battles with the courier and insurers.
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It is why I have a good name.
It all goes back to the lesson on inconveniencing others.
It is why wimminz and niggerz have a bad name.
Back in the day, when a woman’s virtue was all she had of value, the cost of raping a woman was the same as the cost of taking one as your wife for life, e.g. fucking huge and lifelong.
Stealing or damaging a mans’ tools meant you had to support him until you replaced his tools, with equivalent ones mind, not cheap knock offs from toolzone
Until such time as you had made reparations in full, you yourself were not entitled to shit, and the only limit on inconveniences to yourself was that they must not further delay your ability to make reparations to the injured party.
Some things, like preventing a child from growing up with a father, you cannot ever make reparations for, and so the minimum tariff should be that you and your entire genetic line, including all your offspring, and all theirs, and so on, are eradicated from the gene pool.
Either that, or when faced with such an injured party where it is physically impossible to make reparations, you should be faced with the injured party deciding what damages should apply.
If you break into my house and steal my late father’s tools and sell them for a baggie of crack so they can never be recovered, then there is no good claiming that it is possible to purchase good quality modern equivalents for 5k.
It’s not just the milk in the fridge thing, where you should be forced yourself to go out and source and deliver to me the complete list of stolen tools, and not simply cut me a cheque for 5k and walk away.
It’s the “my dead dad’s tools” thing, where you can’t buy the individual spanner he bought as an apprentice and used all his life, thus denying me the ability to pick up and use a tool that my dad handled, only ****I**** can decide what that is worth to me.
You don’t get to discuss or dispute or argue that valuation.
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Actually it just occurred to me *why* this whole subject popped up in my head, a good mate is getting involved with what may well be a fairly decent wimminz… yup, AWALT and all that, but she has womb turds, and my mate was concerned about discipline.
I told him, you move in with her, her kids are her problem, you only discipline them by proxy through her, never directly, so if her kids drink all the milk in the fridge you make her go out immediately and replace it, at whatever inconvenience to herself.
If she chooses to pass on that inconvenience to her kids or not, that is up to her, not your lookout, but unless she immediately inconveniences her kids by telling them to go NOW to the shop and buy milk and come right back, you may as well split with the bitch now, because it is only a matter of time.
Funny how it´s always them decent wimminz that end up with bastards.
Sucks to be that mate of yours.
Comment by hans — August 7, 2013 @ 5:38 pm
I did say AWALT… lol… but it might still be worth it, provided the benefits exceed the cost by sufficient margin…
Comment by wimminz — August 7, 2013 @ 7:07 pm
Yep, “might”.
That´s why I´m keeping well away from that whole game.
Because them kids might actually be quite cool too and the wimminz might have made a couple of honest mistakes getting knocked up multiple times by their (now useless) father(s ?), surely with the least amount of passion.
Nope.
Not for me. Good luck to you future STEP-dad pal.
Comment by hans — August 8, 2013 @ 3:22 pm
spitting my coffee out, I already started calling him “dad”…lol
Comment by wimminz — August 8, 2013 @ 4:41 pm
Your mate is in for a very rude awakening. I’m not wishing him ill, mind you; just making a prediction.
Three years ago I got serious with the — last — single mom I ever got serious with. Hot little number, a bit older than I, with a young son she had ripped away from his dad. What could go wrong?
First she wanted me to spank little Johnny for her. When I told her to fuck off, she acted all amazed. “You have to back me up!” she screamed. “That’s his dad’s job,” I told her, flatly.
After that she would use the friendship little Johnny had built with me as a lever. “If you don’t clean your room, I won’t let Boxer come over next week!”
Eventually it devolved to the point where I came over and just hung out with Johnny, and refused to speak with skank-ho, until she threw me out, exasperated. He turned out to be far cooler than she was, and her shit was so tedious I’d have much rather read Dr. Seuss to him than to put up with her incessant demands and cunty bitching.
About six months ago, Johnny found me in a restaurant. He ran up and gave me a hug. He’s now much bigger. His cunt mother was aghast, as she pulled him offa me… My date for the evening happened to be younger and hotter than she was in her prime. She, in the interim, has gained about 20 kilos of blubber and a strange metal piercing in her nose. I didn’t bother making introductions.
Yes, you can date single moms, but you are punished for your good deeds toward their kids, and it never works out in the long run. So much easier, emotionally speaking, to just shun these cunts. If you must help out the bastard class, volunteer at scouts or at the public schools, and leave the single moms to their cats and careers.
Comment by 8oxer — August 8, 2013 @ 10:19 pm
Love the internet, there´s always someone who has lived your worst nightmare.
No matter how deep you bond with that kid and he/she worms into your heart, “real” daddy you will never be and neither are they your kids.
Blood simply IS thicker than water.
The only way:
Comment by hans — August 9, 2013 @ 2:18 pm
Comment by hans — August 9, 2013 @ 2:19 pm
Dear Hans: One of the most eerie experiences I’ve enjoyed in my online life was reading this wimminz blog, and finding the author talk about the *exact* scenario I’ve experienced, whereby I had to stop this single mom skank from taking my pants off, while little Johnny was 2m away with his back turned, watching some trash tee-vee program. No one else — anywhere — calls these bitches to a tee, quite like our host.
In any event, yeah, dating a single mom is a trainwreck in slow motion. These bitches have already proven that they don’t give a shit, even about their own biological offspring… so why do you think they’ll give two shits about you? You know what I mean? I’m preaching to the choir here. lol
Comment by 8oxer — August 9, 2013 @ 9:07 pm
http://www.coding2learn.org/blog/2013/07/29/kids-cant-use-computers/
Here´s another inconvenience, bunch of trained monkey could hardly do worse.
Finally I´m starting to understand why there´s so little outrage over the NSA shit.
Most of these fucking facebook-zombies haven´t got the slightest clue what it even MEANS!
Comment by hans — August 10, 2013 @ 1:20 am