Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

For reference I am mid/late 50’s now, but as a boy, things that could only have been found in a printed on paper “wank mag”, and I do not just mean dirty pictures, but also text stories and subjects and so on, are the daily staple of many mainstream “media” outlets such as the daily fail website.

Be it the rights of primary school children to be any gender they choose, to practically anything else you can shake a stick at.

Back when I was a kid a psychopath was defined as someone who didn’t care about “people” eg. there was no family or tribal or group connection, a description that applies to pretty much 99% of the population now, and of course with insanity all around us and the trend being ever upwards, well, why would you *not* indulge your darkest desires?

Notions or “right” and “wrong” have long since disappeared, now it’s down to what can you do and not be punished for, and of course, to be punished, first you have to get caught and detected and so on, and even then, if every one else is doing 35 mph in the 20 mph zone, why the fuck wouldn’t you?

Why wouldn’t you fuck some post pubescent but below the age of consent but well up for it because they were raised on a diet of personal tablets and phones with pornhub access kid?

It’s not like you’d be in a vanishingly small minority any more, it seems that everyone is doing it, and it seems to be something filtering from the town down in society at that, and it seems that whether you did or did not do it, nothing is going to make you immune from being accused of it in 10 or 20 or 30 years, so you may as well get hung for a sheep as a lamb.

When I was a boy one of the immutable cornerstones of western civilization was the OBSERVABLE FACT that in 99.999% of cases, the simple act of being innocent of something was sufficient to remove you from ALL consequences of such a thing.

If you had nothing to hide, you really did have nothing to fear.

That was then.

This is now.

I have said for many years that “everything that you are told is a lie” and while it is still true, sadly we have moved so far beyond that point that it is a statement that while being true, is also wildly misleading.

“everything that you are told is a fantasy” is where we are at now.

Lies are simple misdirection or misrepresentation, the dog ate my homework, I did not steal your 5 bucks, john did, etc etc.

Fantasy is aliens stole the homework, a russian state sponsored drug cartel stole your 5 bucks and frames me for it, and john in an agent of putin, etc etc

A lie is something that may be believed because there is a lack of evidence to show otherwise, or be disproved when evidence later arises.

A fantasy is something that is apparently expected to be believed because there is no way there is going to be evidence to show otherwise, how the fuck can anyone prove I was not abducted by aliens and anally probed?

As a boy I would have been soundly beaten and punished for telling a lie, this was so effective that on the one hand I cannot actually recall a single beating, I’m sure they happened and I’m sure they were painful at the time, I just cannot recall a single instance, so they can’t have been that bad.

As a boy if I had indulged in fantasy it kind of went one of two ways, if the fantasy was “healthy” like pretending to be a cowboy or indian, well, no big deal, same as pretending to be a shopkeeper or train driver or astronaut…. there were plenty of elements of that roleplay that worked and taught you shit, I can distinctly remember being a shopkeeper once, and once only, I set my stall up on the landing and dad said ok boy sell me a tiger beer, (this wasn’t in the UK, you can now get a nasty clone of tiger beer here in some supermarkets) so I handed him some generic thing, and he said that isn’t what I asked for, I asked for a tiger beer… of course I didn’t have any, he did, so I said I could go and get one from downstairs, he said that was his, was I planning on stealing it or buying it, I said I’d buy it, so he sold me a bottle for a dollar from my piggy bank, so I went to sell it to him and he said what’s your profit margin, so I said ok a dollar fifty for a tiger beer dad, he said no thanks, I have two cases downstairs… only paid 20 cents a bottle.

I was down a buck in pocket money and had a bottle of beer I couldn’t sell and didn’t want to drink… mum took pity on me and bought it back for 90 cents, I was around six at the time… will never forget it… can still picture it, the carpet, the cardboard box shop, the junk and the bottle of beer, it had a rip on the label over the “r” in Tiger.

If you pretended you were an alien or your brother tom or someone of the opposite sex, you didn’t get a beating, you got disgust, and “don’t be so fucking stupid boy, you need to grow up”

It was around about that time that I decided that future games would be limited to “army” or driving a steam loco or being a pilot or maybe being an engineer like my dad, because I had just had an epiphany, turns out it was wrong, that was not how dad earned money at work, but it was a damn sight closer than anything that went before which went along the lines of someone giving him money because he went to work, because here was an element of him actually MAKING money on a deal, so obviously him going to work was some sort of similar ish deal… nobody was “giving” him anything in exchange for him turning up and nothing else, there was clearly something going on to do with being smart and brains.

I wanted my elder brother’s train set “when he died” I guess someone had died and I got introduced to the idea of inheritance, but I wanted my dad’s brain when he died, not his car or boat or anything else… hey, I was six, I didn’t think things through, there were too many concepts that I had never been introduced to, so “inheriting someone’s brain when they died” did not seem too ridiculous.

Nowadays I look around me and see a population comprised on 99.9% of people who have never moved much beyond what I was at six, very few real world concepts have ever crossed their paths, and those few that have, well, they could be easily avoided by invoking some fantasy shit.

My name is rover, I identify as a great dane, as such tax laws do not apply to me, and I can shit in the street with impunity, I am actually a russian great dane, and my master is putin.

I will probably get more human pussy than I did back when I was a human male……..