Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

So, how do you cope with a wimminz…

…without going insane?

Let’s say you’re a man, and you have three separate friends, Tom, Dick and Harry.

One night you’re talking to Tom, and he says to you, hey, how about we hang out next weekend? You say OK, what are we going to do? Tom says he doesn’t know, let’s just hang out and see what’s what, you agree.

You spend the next week thinking about things you and Tom could do, there is a bike show in this town, there is an electronics expo in that town, or you could both do a road trip to go see Dick, or you could just hang out at yours and listen to music and shoot the shit and grab a few beers.

You drop a dime on Dick, hey, me and Tom are hanging out this weekend, we might come up and see ya, is that cool or are you busy?

Meantime, Harry drops you a line, you fancy helping him move his boat this weekend, sorry Harry, already made plans to hang out with Tom, maybe we can both come and help, maybe we are going to take a road trip to see Dick, maybe we are just going to hang out.

Dick and Harry are both factoring everything you have said into THEIR plans for next weekend, and of course YOU are factoring everything Tom said into your plans, you are putting some things in the to do list, like maybe go see Dick, while passing up other opportunities, like go help Harry.

This is all OK, y’all are guys, there is only one of you and so many hours in the day, and basically you work it out between you.

Mean while, back in the real world, along comes Jane.

Now Jane ain’t Tom, or Dick, or Harry, nor is she anything like them, Jane is more like the weather.

The weather forecast for next weekend says it is gonna be fucking cold, and stormy, not ideal for a road trip or moving a boat, but the thing about the weather is you have to wait and see until the day, you can’t make plans.

Jane is like the weather, what she says she will do is right, or close enough to right, JUST OFTEN ENOUGH for you to listen to the next thing she says she will do, or the next weather forecast.

Jane is NOT like Tom, Dick and Harry, what they say they will do is right, like a train timetable is right, sure, sometimes due to unforeseen circumstances you get last minute delays and cancellations, but even then, you know they are working 24/7 to TRY to keep to the timetable, and the timetable itself, well that is trustworthy enough you trust keeping your job to it, or meeting your plane to it, or anything else that involves the fact that you have put a significant amount of trust into it, so if that trust fails to materialise the hardships you suffer as a consequence are also significant.

You see the FUNDAMENTAL difference here.

Tom, Dick & Harry feel OBLIGATED to come through on whatever it was they said they would do, and if they cannot, they feel bad, they let you know as soon as possible, and most of all they apologise, and mean it.

Most of all, because you and Tom and Dick and Harry discussed all this shit, you will discuss any changes and try to reach some consensus, where everyone still know what is going down, you do NOT unilaterally change YOUR plans, and then NOT  bother telling Tom, or Dick, or Harry, they will figure it out when you ain’t where you said you would be…

Jane is like the weather, sure, you were expecting a sunny day, and made plans to go to the beach and all, but what you get on the day is what you get, and she ain’t gonna tell you, after all you’ll know soon enough when the rain starts falling.

Frog and Scorpion, you can’t change wimminz nature.

Your problems only start when you forget that.

If Jane suggests spending the weekend bouncing up and down on your cock, well, that would be nice, as would a sunny and warm day in winter, but if you bet on it, you’re a fool.

On the day, Jane is either going to turn up or she ain’t, and if she does, you are either going to be there or you ain’t… No PLANS mother-fucker, no timetable, no WEIGHT given to stated intentions.

Treat Jane like the weather, be prepared to take advantage of the warm and sunny day in winter, when you wake up that morning and find it warm and sunny, but do not under any circumstances place *any* weight in advance on that being a warm and sunny day.

Do not in any way base your decisions or actions or plans the preceding week on the basis that you are hoping for some warm and sunny weather, and have any expectations AT ALL of it coming to pass.

The bird in the hand, eg don’t pass up a blow job now from a 3 in the belief that the 6 who had made firm plans (which have been confirmed every day for the past two weeks) to spend all weekend worshipping your cock will actually show.

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There is a down side to this of course, if you treat Jane like this, instead of like a blue pill niggerz, Jane may decide she prefers someone else, in which case I will ask you what you have lost, yeah, you lost the chance to get the jackpot prize of 1,000 bucks you were after for your gratification, but you also lost the pain of paying 100 bucks a week for 12 weeks to be eligible for the draw.

The other down side is Jane respects you for it, and starts making amends, and efforts to improve the quality and accuracy of the weather forecast she gives you, while accepting your refusal to make firm plans based on a weather forecast.

The issue with this second downside may be unexpected to you, you won’t be able to look at Jane and see the same person you saw back when you treated her weather forecasts with equal weight as the train company timetable.

This metamorphosis in YOU is talked about a lot in the manosphere, but I don’t actually think any of them either really get it, or the implications.

We talk about swallowing the red pill, not being able to un-see things we have seen, not being able to un-ring a bell.

None of these things are an EPIPHANY, and that is what I am talking about, and that is what you NEED, you need an epiphany to see that Jane is a weather forecast, and Tom and Dick and Harry are train company timetables.

There is a slut 45 minutes drive away from me, she is a 3, but she will do anything I want, no limits, none fucking whatsoever, anything and everything I want, on demand, and call me sir and master and my lord while she does it.

So I sit here on a Saturday morning and I haven’t had my balls drained, and the fact is, she can drain them a lot better and a lot more pleasurably than I can by having a wank, and just out of arms reach is my mobe, and all I have to do is pick it up and text the bitch.

I haven’t.

I won’t

*if* the weather blows that way and she contacts me, I’ll think about it, but the moment may well have passed by then, probably will have, in truth.

This is not the effects on not being able to un-see something, this is a post epiphany perspective, I can never see this bitch, or any other skank ho slut, the same way, ever again.

I mourn this, but I cannot change it.

So Jane, post epiphany, ceases to be a fellow human being like Tom and Dick and Harry, someone I can have meaningful communications with, and make plans with, and rely on… instead Jane is reduced to utility, she isn’t CAPABLE of loving me or respecting me or considering me etc etc etc, in the way that I or Tom or Dick or Harry are capable of doing those things for her.

So, what’s the point in me doing those things for her?

Absolutely none at all.

Sure, she can “comfort” me, the way the sun warms my back, but it doesn’t love me just because it warms my back, so I use the word “comfort” in exactly the same way the Jap’s referred to “comfort women” for the troops.

None of those guys thought those wimminz actually loved them or cared for them or gave a shit about them or had their back, but, they could give them comfort.

Jane can tell me she loves me and worships me and wants to spend the rest of her life under my total control, but coming from a weather forecaster and not a train timetabler, that isn’t such a fantastic gift, even if it does actually turn up on the day.

I have no way of knowing if it will come to pass in 150 days time, any more than I am able to say in 150 days time it will be hot and sunny and dry and yummy.

Since I plan on being around and alive in 150 days time, I can do no more than wait and see.. literally, I can NOT DO ANY MORE THAN WAIT AND SEE…  ain’t gonna be placing any weight or bets on that.

Sure, it will be “nice” if it comes to pass, but not great, not fantastic, not mind blowingly amazing, not the earth moved beneath my feet.

So Obama wins the election, Germany wins the world cup, Schumacher wins the paralympics, Digital Dirk Bogarde wins 27 oscars, and why should I give a shit, outside of hysteria, which is what all sports and media and politics is, really…. vesting interest and weight into something that may or may not come to pass.

And as if when it does come to pass, the real reality will be a sodden damp squib, compared to the megaton Ivan that was hyped up in order to get me to make that emotional investment.

I got another “female” in my life, that in reality means as much to me as Jane ever will, Black Betty (bam a lam..lol) and Black Betty is a bobber, Black Betty was a bobber before there was such a thing as a bobber. (BB ain’t an HD btw)

Black Betty came about by taking stuff away from a street motorsickle until there was nothing non essential left, and then taking some more away, and playing with and altering everything else.

Black Betty only ever had one seat and one set of foot-pegs.

Black Betty only has any value at all to me because she is my property.

(and no, I’m not getting side-tracked into some list about why motor-sickles are better than wimminz…lol.. you can do that yourselves)

I’m sentimental about Black Betty, but not overly so, I ain’t gonna be throwing good money after bad, and one day she will be no more than scrap.

Black Betty is the old farmers cow, when she ain’t milking no more it’s time for the chop, cos you ain’t eating all my grass for no return. He loves his cows, but not that much they cost him money.

Jane is Black Betty, made flesh.

I got no use for the bitch any way except;

  1. casual no strings cum-bucket like the one 45 minutes drive away.
  2. my property, for me to control and use any way I see fit.

One or the other, that’s it.

All your appeals to my better nature, to be my friend, my confidant, my lover, my partner, a fellow human being, or appeals that how can I see these poor blameless wimminz and children starving and homeless, well, I don’t got no better nature no more.

I had an epiphany.

That’s like asking me to sell Black Betty so I can raise some money and go spend it giving new paint jobs to wrecks that are already stacked 5 high in the scrapyard.

20/20 hindsight is a wonderful thing, my ex-wife who cheated on me with the lodger while I was in the slammer, hey, I don’t mind the cheating, I wasn’t there to fuck her, stands to reason someone else will be, but it was the rest of her poisonous personality that burned my ass… all came to a head one day, and I was still riding milwaukee back then, so she says to me 3 days before my birthday, cos she was pissed at the shovel being in the dining room while I rebuilt it, she was about done by this stage, only chains and sprockets left, she says to me that I got to choose between her and the bike, so three days later on my birthday I saddle the fucker up and take off, get back to the UK ten months later to find she had filed divorce papers on me, my reaction, sure, as long as the divorce don’t cost me one single penny, I’ll sign.

20/20 hindsight tells you the epiphany was a long fucking time coming, bit like a dam that has been leaking small amounts for years, then one day the whole thing lets go, “without warning”, except the years of lack of maintenance and small leaks *were* warnings, they were just ignored.

20/20 hindsight tells you to this day you couldn’t pick a single tiny thing and say this here was the keystone event, exclude this one thing and it would never have happened, no single straw was unique enough to break the camel;’s back… you just have two era’s in your life, pre-epiphany and post-epiphany.

The world hasn’t changed one iota, YOU have, you now know the difference between a train timetable and a weather forecast, and they now occupy utterly different and mutually exclusive niches in your life.

And all the king’s horses, and all the king’s men, can’t put the two together again.