Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

Perceptions are a motherfucking funny thing.

I see it all the time, people from self declared first world countries not liking the look of how things are headed where they are, and looking for another country to bug out to.

So sooner or later they draw up a shortlist of third world countries, and then maybe even visit them to do some research, to work out what they are gonna do when they export their own 1st world ass to said 3rd world sanctuary / shithole / bum-fuck-nowhere.

In my own experience, you have to spend minimum 6 to 12 months in a host country, and mingling with the everyday folk every day at that, to get a feel for it, something I have done on more than one occasion.

The arrogance and hubris of the people I describe above can only become apparent to you once you have done this, until you experience it first hand, it is like someone who has regained consciousness half way through an operation, the anaesthesia ain’t working so good but the immobilisers and muscle relaxants are, describing it to you.

It’s just words, unless you have first hand experience.

First hand experience, it’s allowed me to see, time, after time, after time, after time, after time, always the same thing, the person from the 1st world arriving in the 3rd world, with the illusion that that 1st world aura is just something they can bring with them, so that they retain their 1st world aura in a 3rd world country.

What happens in reality of course is when you leave a 1st world country and move to a 3rd world country, you start to transmute to 3rd world status yourself, and the speed of the process is affected somewhat by how much gold you brought with you and still have…. somewhat…

I had a head start on this knowledge, growing up as I did in the colonial days, “Going Native” it was called then, an inexorable process that you could only counter by being brutal, and building a rigidly enforced 1st world enclave in amongst the 3rd world, of integration, there was none.

In short, what makes a person 1st world or 3rd world (or 2nd or 4th or middle earth or anything else you like) is not the person, not at all, but where they live.

When the 1st world person moves to the 3rd world, they become a 3rd world person, the sole exception being if they live in a separate 1st world community and do not integrate with the natives at all.

The more 1st world you want to make that community, the more like a prison it becomes, you have to have 1st world guys on the gates, mowing the lawns, etc, if you go native for the workforce and security, it’s less like a prison, it’s also a lot less stable.

So for example in the 1960’s communist emergency in Malaysia, you faced some choices, no white man could be a driver, because that diluted the image of the rest, on the other hand, you had no way of knowing if any of the locals, indigenous Malays or Chinese or Siamese or Korean or whatever, were communists, but you could hire a Sikh, both his religion and race assured you he wasn’t a communist, and it kept the demarcation of the white man separate from menial jobs like driving.

But, you don’t have to ship a Yank to Borneo to see this trait, you can ship an Englishman to Spain and see the exact same things at play, take em out of the country they were in and put them in another where they think they are better or different to the locals, sit back, and watch them fuck up big time.

The difference between 1st world and 3rd world isn’t that in one you can choose between three suppliers of 50 mbit internet to your home, and the other you’re happy to get a 10 amp mains supply that works 6 days a week.

The difference isn’t the people either, as we have already discussed.

The difference isn’t even how little effort it takes in the 1st world to live like a king of old, and how much effort it takes in the 1st world to claw your way up the next step of the ladder.

The difference is in the 1st world you are deluded about just how much of your lifestyle and status is down to your own efforts, and in the 3rd world you are so busy staying one step ahead of next week you don’t got any time for delusions.

This is going to be one of those random disjointed shit posts, so I’m going to leave the whole 1st/3rd world thing for a moment.

A thing I have observed about wimminz that I have been fucking regularly for some time in the past, then it tails off, then one day out of the blue they are back, and you have one or two nights of passion and kinky sex, in which they tell you that you are and always were the one, they are so glad to have found you again, then they go back home and the “reality” of their home life intrudes and…. crickets.

Of course there is always a common factor, the common factor is these wimminz are all skank ho single moms, with at least one kid who is basically 15 or older still at home, and one way or another the kid rules the roost.

It’s not that mommy doesn’t want to see you again, it is instead, as one such mommy said to me in person a few days ago, that they are trying to please everyone, they want to please themselves and you by being with you and doing kinky sex, and they want to please said kid, who either doesn’t want to be home alone or doesn’t want to be babysitter or doesn’t want you in *their* home or just plain doesn’t like you.

No matter what they do, they end up with someone feeling angry at them, and the one with the closest and most current proximity is the one they will try to make not angry with them.

Fuck, life is so goddamed complicated….why can’t anything ever go right or easy for me…..

Bed. Made. Lie.

Doesn’t go down well.

Nor does one of my other staples, OK, your womb turd has a fucking problem with me, no worries, now I have a problem with them, I’m not ever going to see, speak to or be in the same building as them again, deal with it.

It’s a 3rd world problem and I am a 1st world man, and if I get that closely involved with you and go and live with you…. I won’t be solving all your problems and dragging you lot into the 1st world, I’ll be going to live in a 3rd world country, with no demarcation, going native, next thing you know, I’m 3rd world.

It wasn’t that long ago I literally woke up one day and found myself the centre of an FRA, everything changes, you lose your work, your home, your freedoms your etc etc etc, that’s fucking 3rd world right there, compared to what I got now.

Be it ever so humble, my own place in which I do exactly what I feel like, or in which I do sweet fuck all if that is what I feel like, today, a non working day, is mostly sweet fuck all.

Sure, there is a ton of stuff I could be doing, and probably should be doing, but as I sit here typing this, not dressed yet, the washing machine is finishing the spin cycle, whack that load in the dryer, more coffee, another smoke, burn some joss… that’s probably enough effort.

You think life would be so chilled with little miss my kids don’t like y’all that much dude?… Fuck no, I’d be spending my day doing all kinds of shit for other people, and nobody would be doing shit for me… the ton of stuff I could and should be doing still wouldn’t be done, but not by choice or laziness, just because all my time was gone.

You wanna talk about first world troubles? Here’s a biggun.

See me here, living and chilling and mainly doing sweet fuck all in AfOR’s bat-cave, gives me a lot of time to chill, and to ponder, and to think.

Little miss why can’t I please everyone and get some extra cock too meanwhile is running around like the proverbial blue assed fly, they are always “busy”, and even when they think of you, it is for fleeting moments only, in between crises, little johnny has been feeding the kittens laxatives laced with LSD again, so it may well be 24 hours in between the times when she finds or makes enough time to actually sit down and send you a text or give you a ring…. at 11 pm

Meanwhile that same day, while idly scratching your balls and scoping ZH over the morning coffee, you have already given her, or rather, the concept of her, an hour’s semi continuous sub-conscious thought… come to the conclusion that, horrendous waste of human life it may be, but she will have it no other way, so the only way to deal with her is file her under as / if / when she makes herself and herself alone available for me to empty my balls into, and nothing else, well, I’ll consider it.. next topic..

In a computational arms race, how much time she spends thinking about a man in her life, and how much time you spend thinking about a wimminz in yours, the comparisons approach plaintext vs computationally intensive crypto cracking…. it will take her years to do as much thinking on the subject of you, as you have already done in one hour in one morning, thinking about her.

To AfOR, the world of her is in plaintext, to her, the world of AfOR is some sort of chaotic encrypted volume, maybe.

Hey, you want me to really fuck with your minds, here is what an average man can come up with, just by sitting down and thinking and scratching his balls, God particles and Higgs Bosons and quark strangeness and charm and string theory, only reason it looks like chaos man is because that’s what good crypto looks like, all you need is the master key, then it all becomes plaintext simple, 2 + 2 = 4.

What’s the radius of a black hole / singularity man… LRFH.

….so lets take a quick break and chuck another record on the spindle…

People can just about manage their own lives, just about, as discussed in the last few articles.

Put them or let then take charge of other people’s lives, total fuck up… size of the fuck-up proportional to the number of other people’s lives they have influence over.

Dig.

So let’s come down to personal competencies.

In 99.9% of cases, these so called “experts” are no different to you.

There is no difference between a fucking medical doctor or accountant or banker or lawyer and the guy who has memorised a bunch of sports statistics…. none.

Why do you think surgeons get called Mr and not Dr, to separate themselves from the mere doctors, who just learned shit, surgeons learned how to do shit, a trade, a skill, a physical ability.

See, this pic here, depending on the trade some will call this a fire socket, some will call it a 24/7 socket, some will just call it a red un-switched (no on off switch) socket.

They are used for equipment in the UK that is not ever supposed to be either unplugged or turned off, stuff that is supposed to stay up 24/7, like fire alarms, routers, emergency lighting charging circuits, etc etc etc… and they should have fire-resistant electrical cable feeding them too, in a steel conduit.  Never do of course.

“Normal” mains sockets are white, and usually but not always have a on/off switch too…

In theory in my job everything should be in a rack with a powerbar or two providing all the sockets you need.. the reality is you may or may not get a rack, and you will have white sockets and often also 4 way extension leads all piled up, loads of plugs, and only way to find what goes to what is by tracing cables in the orgy of snakes… cleaners come it at night, grab nearest white socket, unplug whatever is there, plug in vacuum cleaner, away you go…

So I regularly have project managers asking me to inform them when a site doesn’t have any 24/7 sockets spare, and of course I do so, not just none spare, none, period.

So the cunts get back to me, asking me to ask the site and supplier and tooth fairy and anyone else for help in finding or identifying the sockets.

Fuck. You. All.

The only problem here is YOU cunts giving me these orders don’t know what a fucking fire socket looks like.

You don’t know what a fucking 3rd world country looks like either.

Let’s change the record again.

Some of the more perceptive people in my life have called me the mirror man, I treat you exactly the way you treat me, not the way you *think* you are treating me, the way you *actually* treat me.

It’s one of the reasons I have always been able to segue between worlds, while, it must be admitted, not really fitting in to any of them, exactly.

It doesn’t matter where on the planet I have been, the working man with a trade or a skill, and by that I mean everything from the fisherman to the boatbuilder etc etc, has always been someone that it was easy to strike up a rapport with.

The so called professional walking baseball encyclopaedia, not so much.

The so called professional below that who doesn’t know his own asshole from a fire socket, so just assumes that since I am on less money than him I don’t know either…. even less.

So when the fucking project manager assumes I am a clueless twat who doesn’t know what a fire socket looks like, I return the favour, and assume they are a clueless twat, even at their chosen speciality subject and job.

So when the skank ho’s womb turd decides that they don’t like me in their house, I return the favour, and decide that I don’t like them or being around them either, and skank ho mummy can go pull the bones outta that one and try and make it work.

When the 1st worlder who is thinking of bugging out to the 3rd world dismisses me as not understanding his own unique situation and prospects, I return the favour and assume he doesn’t either.

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This is the problem with the panopticon, it’s riddled with cataracts.

It really, really, really is like the old joke about Hitler offering Jesus an Iron Cross if Jesus will let him in heaven, Jesus couldn’t handle / carry a fucking wooden cross, much less an iron one.

Present these cunts with the NSA Panopticon, digitally imported everything, and in reality the cunts are even more lost and out of touch than when all they had to contend with was a room full of filing cabinets and card indexes.

Do you doubt me? Really?

Then I have a challenge for you, find me three meaningful (eg not 90 second clips) videos from the mid 1970’s ideally in the UK describing the following three related subjects.

1/ the three day week

2/ the rolling (mains electrical power) blackouts

3/ the collapse of banks and other financial institutions

I lived through it, so I know it all happened, and I don’t mean in the sense that was a bad storm that took a week to clear up, I mean in the sense it lasted for a few fucking years overall, and for six months it is just about literally all that WAS on the TV news.

Start with google video search… good luck with that… “BBC TV news 1974” will get you a whole page of results on kitten kong, a fucking Goodies comedy sketch.

It’s remarkable, that the only records that survive the fall of Pompeii 2,000 years ago are a few naff music videos featuring Jimmy Saville and a couple of fly on the wall documentaries about the drunks living down Macellum Street.