Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

One of the quandaries that you will face as a father, absentee or not, is the answer to a simple question, if you could sit down in front of a camera for 90 minutes to leave a message for your son(s), what would it say?

Don’t do this, do do that, watch out for the other, ain’t gonna work, it doesn’t take account of technological change or societal change in the interim, and it doesn’t address the 900 lb gorilla in the room, the boy ain’t gonna listen to the old fossil.

With the benefit of 20/20 hindsight I can tell that my old man largely saved his breath, despite having a shit load he could have said, he was more of a hope you don’t, but you’re free to make your own mistakes boy, hope they aren’t too expensive…

Let me put it this way, if I was living in the USA or any place where bearing firearms was legal the gun I would go out and buy today would be a lever action 45.70, it’s a damn near 150 year old cartridge but everything it ever did still holds true today, sure it ain’t the same kind of animal as a spitzer high velocity round but generally speaking I’d be more concerned about everything within 250 yards than everything more than 250 yards away, and within 250 yards you’re guaranteed target death in a rifle that is very very very tough and reliable.

(If you can do on the fly bullet drop in your head or have a fancy sight and a decent length barrel they’ll reach out to 1000 yards… 45/70 in the sharps decimated the american buffalo)

As a younger man I’d have been all over some tricked up 223 or 308 preferably with full auto and a 30 round clip…

Hopefully you see the analogy here, as a younger man being attacked by a bear I’d probably have emptied a clip of 223 into a bear to stop it, then been racked on empty and realised too late there were two bears, 45/70 one shot one kill and you still have 4 left in the tube

If my dad had handed me a henry 45/70 I’d have traded it for a ruger 223 and got credit for the scope and so on, so the “advice” of the older man is wasted on the younger man, and as in the case of my own dad he was smart enough to know that, so didn’t give me much.

just real basic shit, “you did it, you own it, you live with it, not my problem” and such like, I can’t even say I got one chance at everything with him, I didn’t… when I was 17 he went out and bought me a car (old vw beetle) to own and (learn to) drive in, he made sure it was mechanically reliable and safe, of course I didn’t like it, so he sold it.

that wasn’t *just* the end of car help, that was the end of a whole shit load of help, fuck you, smartass little bastard.. lol.. you know so much you can go sort all that shit fo’ yo’sel’

But, me and my dad had one thing in common, the natural hard wired youthful urges to go out and get into compromised situations did not necessarily mean going out and breaking the law… there *was* an element of that, and my earliest criminal convictions were for doing things that he did at my age, except they weren’t illegal back then, nowadays, it’s *all* fucking illegal bro.

*THAT* is the thing I am now old enough to realise, that hard wired shit that drives a young man, he really can’t help it, it really is hard wired, he gotta get it out, so best he do in a way that nobody but himself gets hurt or killed if it goes wrong.

I’m also old enough to realise that the same goes for girls, furiously flirting and exploring their sexuality with the one man on the planet that they were safe with, their father, and of course that shit has gone now, father is an absentee deadbeat dad getting bad press from skank ho mommy… but the drives to flirt and explore their sexuality remain…

Nor is there just one age of man, some things follow a decaying curve, others an increasing curve, and lots of things such as environment and success at any one venture alters the slope of those curves.

Nor is there just one kind of man… my mate was a dog in heat at the slightest whiff of female panties, I’d get random hardons 10 times a day and cream my sheets in my sleep, but most girls were just too much fucking work and hassle man, so he’d be off around town chasing ass and I’d be off on a road trip on the BSA A10 with a few fivers and a waterproof plastic 35mm film can quarter full of speed in my pocket, with a WW2 gas mask bag at my side with various things like toilet roll, smokes, grass, small flask of brandy all individually sealed away waterproof in plastic bags, thing was, it was an either or proposition, even if both appealed equally, you couldn’t do both.

We both got in trouble, we just got in different sorts of trouble….

Only once in my life ever did some guy walk up to me in a pub and start having a go about his daughter, and that was a case of mistaken identity, and only once in my mate’s life did someone walk up to him and accuse him of being the guy draped across the jukebox in a pub 100 miles away, playing  whole lotta love over and over, and that was mistaken identity too.

From an evolutionary perspective it makes perfect sense of course, by all means make the young males restless and risk taking, but don’t have all of them going off in the same direction to try and climb the same cliff and fall broken like lemmings at the base.

So the years pass and the changes take place and I’m still here and still pretty much in one piece, and people start saying shit like I am grounded and balanced and a little fucking kooky but mainly capable of speaking sensibly, well, guess what, any truth in that is down to me having been able to blow that steam off and not fuck up *too* badly along the way… grounded is a good word, earthed, in an electrical sense, able to discharge those potentials and not have them build up and change what I am and how I am.

The shrugged shoulders and the quick laugh and the comment “you ain’t changed have ya, cept for looks of course ya old bastid” is only something you can say or that gets said to “grounded” people, everyone else burnt out or short circuited something else or got fried along the way… betrayed by the beast within because they couldn’t find a way to let it out.

I never met the twat the US Senator John McCain is a great example of that, and the same could be said of someone that several people have invoked with me, Hunter S Thompson, politicians everywhere are the same, same as psychiatrists and social workers and bankers and lawyers and every other fucker trying to change the world instead of letting themselves change and let the bones lie where they may.

I have a close relative, he is somewhat older than me, and from school onwards he was one of those that always did the right thing, had a career that progressed ever upwards with a salary to boot, he is now semi retired and his pension is more (see previous article here about money a week or so ago) than most people earn, and his dear semi-retired wife has a pension that is twice as big as his.

So what does he do today, he bunks off work early to buy some antique hi-fi, and stashes it at an aunties house, he’ll sneak it back into his house some time in the next month or six when his darling wife is out, and stash it with the rest of the antique hi-fi he collects, so she won’t notice.

His own fucking money and he is afraid to spend it on shit he wants, and yeah, I know that drill, had it with the psycho skank ho ex myself, ah well, she didn’t want to give me enough hassle free cunt, but her daughter did (for a while) so what’s a bad boy to do but let that pressure out and pork them both.

That’s the thing see, you can’t escape or beat the beast within, it was a standard opening / pick up line of mine in a place that I lived that had a lot of UK/euro girls visiting, “What are you running away from babe?”

They’d deny it, and I’d just smile and say everyone who comes here is running away from something, and they’d start talking and later that night I’d be emptying my balls into them.

My earlier mentioned mate had already done his pussy chasing by then, I was just getting started, and boy that shit comes a million times easier and more successfully in your early twenties than it does in mid to late teens, plus you don’t have that previous small town pussy history to hold you back or make you fuck up.

That eerie feeling you get of destiny sitting on your shoulder, it’s just the beast within, you can all live life a little differently, and still be true to the beast within, or you can live it any way you like and try and deny it, and be constantly betrayed by it.

I can’t fuck an 18 year old now, no matter how legal it is, no matter how much fun it is, because I know that no matter what she says today, she will change with time, and unless she is true to the beast within, some time in the future it’s going to betray her, and then she will get pissed, and then everyone else better watch out, ask me how I know, this is where FRA’s and DV allegations and prohibited child contact and all the rest of that shit comes from.

And what are the chances of a modern wimminz not betraying the beast within, because that is the one thing they have in common with the modern young man, it’s pretty much illegal to be true to the beast.

YouTube is disappearing up it’s own ass while everyone is missing the point and whining about monetisation and lack of ad revenue for their wonderful channels, meanwhile there are some guys out there that walked the walk and talk straight shit, because they were true to the beast within, and just ate up and owned all the shit that caused them.