Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

September 24, 2014

Burning Up Time

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 12:11 am

I seem to be short of time to do everything, actually I am not fully utilising the time I have, but that’s me, I’m not killing myself for no fucker, not even myself..lol

It’s the old gig, you gotta do enough to make a difference, but not so much you diminish returns, and you do it all in the dark, a hostage to fortune and the future.

Buying a fucking laser is the easy bit, website to set up, samples to design and make, photos to be taken and edited, videos to be taken and edited, all while planning all aspects of everything, shipping materials how do customers upload files yadda yadda yadda, meanwhile I  got the workshop to finish rearranging and sorting, and the day job, and a fucking life to live, mundane shit like making sure there is coffee and toilet roll in the cupboards, and financially I back to zero, wiped out, but hey ho, live is for living and if you don’t gamble… still it’s better than leasing or buying on HP, and pay-day for the day job is the end of this week, and no fucker pointed a gun at my head, this was MY choice.

Then I read a story over at MGTOW posted by Frozen Yak, some cunt who lost his job and had his wife leave him, so he queues up for 44 hours to buy the skank an iphone 6 in hopes it will make her happy and him less beta, or something… WTF..

Perspective motherfucker, ya gotta keep it, I’m doing OK, if a little ragged at the edges, if a little short of time to post anything here.

I figure life is like riding or driving down the blacktop, when it comes to things like overtaking the cunts in front of you, you got to commit to the fucking mean-eouver (sic – it is the way I drive..lol) , y’all can’t be fucking around death by committee I’ll pass the bastards by going 2.47 mph faster, because you got less lateral freedom of movement when overtaking, so it’s a time of raised danger and vulnerability, so the idea is to shorten that time, take command and slam that maneouver.

None of which stops some other bird brained fucker taking you out, just like life, so me doing this shit (the laser stuff) this way, I’m with old Trotsky, sorta, the workers only control the means of production if they control the machinery of production as well as their own labour, and if it’s borrowed or hired or leased or bought on the drip you don’t control shit.

I figure my customer base isn’t going to include queued for an iphone man, a little but of small business to business stuff, and a little bit of single guys with their own discretionary income taking a look at some of that shit and thinking yeah, gimme summa dat bro.

So I’m talking to a mate, he wants me to do him a smallish edge lit acrylic sign for his business, he decides this 15 seconds after seeing some sample work, we haven’t even discussed price, he knows I’ll do good work and it costs what it costs, and it won’t be steep.

So he says I should do some for the web shop, not just what sign do you want bro, but make some ready made to sell, I say yeah, have to be fuckin’ Star Wars crap with a big Darth, he’s grinning, cos he knows I hate that shit, but I like money Forrest, so because I’m sat here tonight NOT trying to do ten things at once, it comes to me, a big (I’m thinking 450 mm wide by 600 mm high) programmable colour changing EGB LED edge lit El Che.

Fuck yeah, I’ll sell at least one, to me…lol

I’m thinking shit like acrylic loudspeaker enclosures, (custom PC cases were the initial impetus for buying the thing) just supply the plans man and I’ll cut it, hey, time will tell…. lol

——————————————————

The Brighton train, it goes real soon
My Brighton belle is in her room
It’s burning up time, burning up time

I wanna burn up while I’m having good times
Don’t wanna burn up with other people’s bad times
Like a meteor, like to meet her

The weekend’s here
The Finchley boys are gonna make a lot of noise
It’s burning up time

You either love or you despise
There’s just no time for compromise
The days have gotta move real fast
We know that nothing’s gonna last

September 21, 2014

Need a fuckin’ shark now

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 11:52 am

OK, so the laser is bought, collected, set up and in the cave.

In shades of everything else from fucking to sailing to driving to you name it, the differences between theory and practice are greater in practice than in theory.

What I’m trying to say is, early days though it is yet, what a laser is *not* is what Epilog et al are trying to market it as, it is not a fucking printer attached to a PC that you just knock something up and hit print.

It’s like any other machine tool, every Bridgeport that comes off the line is subtly different to the one preceding it and the one following, and the operator has to learn these subtle differences, and indeed every operator is subtly different too, and will do things slightly differently.

Welcome to the world of CO2 lasers, where there is no “correct” speed and power (feeds and speeds) for any given material, but rather something the operator and his machine get a feel for, as a starting point, and finesse from there to taste.

It’s a pleasant surprise in a digital world, the good side of the double edged sword that when cutting the other way means it takes skill and experience to get top results, in other words the more Epilog like you try to make things, yeah, you protect people from the worst fuck-ups, but you also prevent them from being as good as they could be, I guess it is no surprise that Epilog owners are iPhone owners too.

It’s got a lot in common with the milling machine too, maximum machine feeds and speeds is a physical factor, total tool-path length to do job X is another, divide one into the other for the minimum time to do the job, then keep on dividing if you want to do the job well, then keep on dividing if you want to do the job as well as the machine possibly can.

You also walk around and “service” the machine, it’s not just a big printer you walk up to to load paper and remove the finished print, which is reassuring, to me anyway.

You also get people who are already in the club suddenly open up to you, like the guy who engraves gravestones, particularly photos and artwork on them… yeah man, with the stone I use, 13% power doesn’t work much, and 15% power doesn’t work much, but 14% seems good, and hey, if one pass didn’t make it pop out enough, I just do another pass, rerun the whole job… and hey, there is a reason we use the crappy newspaper style half-tone printing for graphics, and why we keep the lines per inch down, instead of doing grey-scale, it’s a lot fucking easer man, it’s a lot fucking faster too man, the great is the enemy of the good enough man…

Let me tell you something else, you think you’ve seen shit because you’ve seen a thousand pics and a thousand vids… no, I’m glad of the huge plexi window in the cover, and I’m glad of the polycarbonate lenses in my spectacles… start cutting organic shit like wood or MDF and boy, it doesn’t matter how small that spot actually is, the fucker is BRIGHT, way way beyond arc lamp / arc eye brightness, for all its tiny size…

No, just because it is non-contact, unlike a mill or a lathe, doesn’t make it any less a machine tool, with all that that entails, so if you want the best out of it, you have to form a relationship with it.

And because I love you guys, I just went out into the workshop, nekkid, I just want you to have that picture in your head, some naked guy operating a laser…lol.. who cares if it’s true or not… owww, my sausage just fell off..

So I grab some old rag, put it on the knife table, which is wrong, should be on the honeycomb table or better still on the vacuum table, but hey, this is just a quickie right.

I then type a single word into the control software, select a font, drag the shape around until it’s the size I want, pick a speed and power setting out of my ass, see what was said before and sent it to the laser, whammo.

Hit run on the laser and bingo, hmmm, not sure that has cut cleanly through, fuckit, press run again, yup, job’s done. Whole fucking process including duplicating the laser run is maybe 3 minutes… nekkid, don’t forget the nekkid bit…lol

The vid is uploaded and processing as I type, ready in 40 mins..

https://vimeo.com/106721705

September 13, 2014

I pulled the trigger…

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 11:42 am

It’s one of those things, as I was saying to a mate who is starting his own business, you got to shit or get off the pot.

So I’ve bought a laser, it’s not a desktop model, it weighs half a ton, so it’s at the bottom end of the industrial scale of things, and I go and collect it in a few days.

Being brutally and scientifically honest, at this point *everything* else is pure speculation, and there’s the rub, and the basis for this post.

Yes, I’d like to earn good money with it, I’d like to grow it into a good business, I’d like to think that as a business it is viable and fulfils a niche and can provide good service to potential customers, I’d like all kinds of things, but, that’s all crystal ball gazing, that and a buck will buy you a coffee.

Yes, it’s a big lump, getting on for the size of a very compact car, and expensive enough to purchase a very good low mileage used car, or a small new one, but that is another tale all by itself.

Could I have bought something smaller / lighter / cheaper, hell yes, but those things would have been less capable, both in terms of the maximum size of material, and maximum thickness of material, and indeed overall ability, so yes, I could play “safe” and buy something smaller and lesser, but would that have been a small initial step on the path, not too painful if it all end up with a big fat nothing, or, would the small size and capacity and ability itself being the undoing of it, there is a difference between a small step, and a step too small to have a chance.

There is also the thing, I could have spent the same money on a car, and said ok, here is my private hire / taxi business, at least if that business doesn’t work, selling a car is relatively easy…. there are a lot of potential buyers out there.

There is also the question of financing, I’m literally wiping out all my savings to do this, and will still have three fairly significant monthly payments (significant = more than rent on my man cave) payments to make, but come January 2015 I will own it outright, no payments or debt to service, again, is this a good and sensible thing as opposed to going to the bank and financing it over 5 years, it’s a moot point, because the reality on the ground is not so much that I chose to finance it this way, so much as this is the only avenue open to me.

See, that there is another slice of life, you’d sit there and think about setting up a business, and looking at all the different ways you can in theory finance it, but the reality is going to be closer to my situation, you are going to have one way and one way only, if you are lucky, so you better pray it is a good way…

Wiping out all my savings and living on thin air for three months while I clear the balance is a good way, because come January 2015, there isn’t a big empty financial bucket that I have to fill up with sales every months to repay financing before I make dollar one for myself… the way I’m doing it will be tough, very tough, but it’s not for long, which means it is not for long to temp fate for some other shit to come along and screw things up.

There’s the other thing, what are my savings doing for me now, sure, they give me the ability to buy this thing, or a motorsickle, or pay my rent and so on for a few months, but that is all theory, in practice that money is sat there doing nothing, in theory it could all be devalued tomorrow or sequestered by the state or wiped out by a failing bank or stock market crash.

If you add in the whole question of possible future earnings from this thing, and how the various possible future paths for the economy affect that, and so on and so forth, you get that oh-god-my-head-is-full-of-cotton-wool feeling I have talked about before, that feeling that is your brain telling you that you know you cannot work this out in your head.

You either take the chance, or you don’t. Suck it and see.

So come say March 2015 I’ll be sat here not saying anything, because it all went horribly wrong and an internet connection is a luxury I cannot afford, or I’ll be sat here with a wondrous machine that is getting zero fucking commercial use, so much for that brilliant idea smartass, or I’ll be sat here saying well, that all went a lot better than I expected, wish I had bought one of the bastards 12 months earlier.

Hostage to fortune time, you bet.

I’m trying to better myself, I’m trying to improve my lot, I’m trying to do it as safely as I can, while not doing it so safely that it severely limits my chances of success.

I may well fall flat on my fucking face.herren

Sure, I could have left the money in the bank, or bought another motor-sickle, or spent it on whores, or whatever, but, I’ve always been interested in lasers, and, you know, I just know I would always be wondering…. what if….

There is also the observation, only a single man could even consider doing this, spend x replacing every stick of furniture in the house and new white goods in the kitchen, or spend x on a big boy’s toy that sits out back in the workshop…. oh yes… grins..

I dunno, time will tell, I have made myself a hostage to fortune and my humiliation or otherwise will be public enough… who knows, I may start selling edge illuminated acrylic Achtung Herren signs… lol

September 7, 2014

Putin raped me

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , — wimminz @ 1:34 pm

Without conducting any kind of actual survey, merely by pulling shit out of my ass and memory, at this point in time, about the only two things Putin hasn’t been accused of in the western MSM is rape and paedophilia.

Speaking myself as a man falsely accused of rape and a whole bunch of other vile evil and outright nasty shit by my psycho skank ho ex… I have one thing to say.

Pray they are all true, pray that Putin is Hitler reincarnated, pray he is Satan, pray he is all these things and more…. pray that they are all true, with every fibre of your being.

Frankly, it’s a much better alternative, because the other option is some or all of these vile accusations are false, and trust me on this, a man falsely accused *never* forgets, *never* “forgives and gets over it” and *never* grants you back your old status of “fellow human being”…  you’re just a cancer.

From many different directions and sectors of life, I have had people say to me that increasingly they are of the opinion that Putin is the last true european, the last true white man, the last true western man, the last true civilised man, at least as far as the world of politics goes.

==================================

In other news, and when I say news I mean two thirds of the way down the front page, so not exactly important….lol

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2746370/Revealed-New-boss-investigation-VIP-child-abuse-claims-linked-Leon-Brittan-The-Mail-On-Sunday-exposes-family-friendship-SECOND-inquiry-chief-ex-MP-accused-abuse-file-cover-up.html

Yeah, so the skank (woolf) you appointed to replace the last skank, butler-sloss, who had to step aside because of things that might taint any claims of her *impartiality* into the inquiry into institutionalised paedophilia by VIP’s, turn out to also have many many connections to those she is supposed to investigate and call for evidence from, you know, minor shit like lived on the same exclusive street for the past decade, members of the same board, that sort of thing….

Mere colossal, monumental, stupendous incompetence and arrogance alone is insufficient to explain this, both on the part of the people in the home office appointing woolf to replace butler-sloss, but also on the part of woolf for accepting the role as replacement, while living on the same fucking street as brittan, and being on the same committees and boards as him, and being great friends with his wife…

Yes, the non capitalisation of all their given names is quite deliberate in this case, and not a typo or mere laziness.

You see these people are *all* friends with each other, at the most one step removed, and there is nothing the least unusual about them, they are utterly representative of the class of people running this country, (and probably yours too) so it really isn’t possible to appoint anyone independent for an enquiry into this, or anything else, be it middle eastern weapons of mass destruction or the downing of flight MH17, without going OUTSIDE the circle.

Let’s take my filthy lying psycho skank ho ex, there is nothing I’d like better than for her to actually be charged and prosecuted and tried for all the perjury and perverting the course of justice and using innocent children as weapons and malicious false accusations and all the rest of it, and there is nothing I’d like better that for everyone giving evidence to be strapped into a machine that basically read their minds and played it back in HD video, no possibility of lying, and of course I’d make a star witness.

But, if someone offered me the role of being CHAIRMAN of that enquiry, then, frankly, the first thing that pops into my head is the quote “it is insufficient for justice to be done, justice must be SEEN to be done” because my lack of impartiality is impossible to conceal.

Sadly, me declining said role does nothing to address the fact that the cunts who offered it to me are totally unfit for office, or anything else except a 9mm to the back of the head, and being brutally honest, my reasons for declining would have more to do with being associated with such people, than me myself being seen as corrupt and vengeful when I found the psycho skank ho ex guilty on all counts, which would be a just and correct verdict.

https://www.gov.uk/government/organisations/home-office/about

Tells you exactly what they do, and of course the home office is drawn for the same pool of people that work in the neighbouring foreign office, and their about us page says a lot of similar shit, and the same goes again for the crowd a bit further down the same corridors, the ones deciding how the UK acts WRT Ukraine and Putin and Syria and ISIS and so on.

=================================

Which brings us right back to where we started, and you better hope Putin is cut from EXACTLY the same cloth as these worthless cunts, because, if he is NOT, then we all just irrevocably and totally alienated a man who is innocent of all these accusations and allegations.

And Putin isn’t a CIA trained puppet like Saddam in some raghead dustbowl.

Everyone talks about Stalin and Lenin being cunts.

That isn’t a black and white grainy photo of Putin, that is a photo of Beria, he was the “Mr Fix It”, so the glorious leader doesn’t get his hands dirty be specifically ordering such and such, he just keeps a wolf on a long leash and issues general orders, “Make it so” and left the details to a man who he knew was completely ruthless and amoral, but very effective and very competent and what he did.

Putin himself is a hard man to classify, and of course I have not met the man myself in the flesh so everything is at a distance, and quite possibly not based on any actual facts at all, but actually *watching* the man, and yes, you can make all sorts of claims about scripted shit and acting and so on, but actually watching the man, I don’t see the “clique” stuff, I don’t see a man ashamed to be a man, or ashamed to be white, or hating the darkies because they ain’t white, and especially, I don’t see a fool, or a whore, or an actor…. indeed 16 minutes in to the video when the blonde skanks asks a question in an ingratiating and leading way, he doesn’t pander to her, and when she comes back at him and says what you said isn’t a direct quote of what the Iranian leader says, he comes back straight away and says direct quotes aren’t as important as not saying anything that can be taken and quoted out of context… but she doesn’t let him go, on the eve of a meeting with obama, so what does he do, he uses scarlett o’hara and gone with the wind, and segues into slavery and ethnic cleansing and nuking the japs…. and gives her a good answer, and a bloody good answer, and yet, an answer that can’t be taken and quoted out of context… you just wouldn’t want to touch *any* of it, as an opposition politician… you really should watch the whole video…. sting in the tail for commenter Bob K Mando and his response to the last post… enjoy..

This is a careful man, and experienced man, a cynic. This is not a fool.

He may not be a good man, or an honourable man, I have no idea, I have never met him, nor do I know anyone who has, but, unlike brittan and butler-sloss and woolf, I wouldn’t avoid walking into a bar just because I knew he was in there.

September 6, 2014

Calling the shots.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , — wimminz @ 12:15 pm

It’s one of the really difficult ones, you can look at it from any angle and study it as much as you like, but there are some / many subjects where you get that funny little feeling in your head, you know the answer is un-knowable ahead of time….

WTF is the west doing in Ukraine, are they really trying to provoke WW3, or do they think it’s never going to come to that because nobody involved actually wants WW3 so it’s not really playing with fire as all involved parties will stamp out any stray sparks before they can ignite a conflagration?

Sure, I could have re-written the above paragraph more simply, “Are they assholes? Or are they assholes?”

But, I’ve been watching and waiting, not for the funny little feeling in your head that tells you that you are never going to work this shit out ahead of time, but that other feeling in your head, where someone drops an idea in and whammo, the super saturated solution instantly crystallises into a solid, god, that was so obvious, how could I not see it etc…………..  and I have been waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and waiting.

Fucking crickets.

What is *the* fucking most obvious colloquialism that anyone could use to describe the whole Ukraine thing? One so obvious that if you went back in time, you’d think no bookmaker would give you a bet longer than evens for the next hour or so, maybe, that someone somewhere in the MSM would use it, and it would take off like the aforementioned super saturated solution?

Russian Roulette.

OK, there I said it, I could not go on watching for it and not saying it, it’s been MONTHS not fucking weeks, and even my patience has limits.

Maybe because (assuming a six shooter) not so much that there is a one in six or 16.6 recurring % chance of losing, but because losing is game over man, and it’s a whole nother world, even if you are not the one holding the gun when the hammer drops on a loaded chamber.

I’ve seen this shit all my fucking life, it is one of the commonest fuck ups people make, hey man, that was fucking DISPROPORTIONATE and UNCALLEDFOR, all I did was give you the fucking middle finger, he has NO REASON to go fucking postal…

Yeah, except if you’d known about the shit that dropped down on that guys head the past 6 months, you’d know he was running on a real short fuse and had no time in his life for anyone else’s bullshit, and that includes you flipping him off because he didn’t give way or some such shit.

Fucking years ago, I was out riding with a mate, the dudes in the (old style original) Mini didn’t know my mate had split up with his girlfriend and been shitcanned at work in the past week, and had buried a mate the week before and a parent the week before that, so they thought there was nothing wrong with squeezing past a biker approaching a roundabout so they could get, belatedly, into the lane they wanted.

Next thing I know, my mate loses it, cuts up the side of the mini and starts kicking the shit out of it, mini driver swerves away and ends up on the grass in the middle of the roundabout, my mate rides up after him, just lets the bike fall over sideways, and yanks the fucking passenger door open (it was closest), then hammers it until it levers off the hinges, climbs onto the roof and uses the door as a club to beat the crap out of everything he can reach, meanwhile the occupants cower inside, safe apart from the glass showering around them.

He looks at me, climbs down off the roof and falls on his ass, picks up the remains of the door and leans it against the remains of the mini, and the guys inside, who are all wide eyed and paralysed, says “Sorry”, takes two attempts to pick his bike up, and we ride off.

For years after that, in a pub or round a fire, that was a story that was good for a dozen laughs, and lots of acting out his gestures, and the biggest laugh was always the “sorry” at the end, and he is sat there, all sheepish, yeah man, I wish I hadn’t done that.

I know, it’s always been one of my own biggest failings, I can be quite chilled, and you fucking cut me up or start making gestures because you don’t like my driving, hey asshole, if you want to drive the fucking speed limit, keep left (or right, if you drive on the right) so assholes like me can overtake, then you won’t have me up your ass, urging you to either put your foot down or move left… but play silly buggers with me or start flipping me off, doesn’t even take a heartbeat, I *am* capable of the mini stunt, and once I cross the line from legal into illegal, I may as well go all the way, not a fender bender, may as well run you right off the fucking road you cunt….lol

Hey, I see someone ELSE on the road acting like they got a short fuse, what do I do… good question, I pull over and stop or drop waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay back and stay there.

The point I am making here, is anyone can literally or figuratively tread on someone else’s toes, it is how you react when you are the tread-er, when you realise what ya just done… if you let me, I’ll back off and apologise.

Too many, far, far, far, far, far, far too many cunts, in my life, and in my experience, don’t want to let me, nor, on the other hand, do they want “one of us dies right here right now“, what they want is to play Russian roulette, and win… they don’t just want to redress the “insult”, not even with maybe a bit of interest for good measure, serves the cunt right for treading in my toes, all that I can accept.

It’s the case they want to exact a disproportionate price from me, WHILE SIMULTANEOUSLY ASSUMING that they are the only ones allowed or likely to get disproportionate about this shit…

Yeah sure man, I fucked up and I admit it and I’ll take my grits, I spilt YOUR beer so I’ll buy you another one, and the guys with you, but oh no, you wanna trash talk to me like I’m your fucking bitch too, and I am LOOKING at you motherfucker, wondering if this time it’s gonna come down to the choice of take a beating from a cunt and we both live to see another day, or one of us dies, and it probably ain’t gonna be me, cos you ain’t on that level, you just wanna bitch me out and shit on me, not commit murder.

Usually the “you” I am looking at motherfucker is the only cunt in the room dumb enough not to realise I’m looking at him, you have my full attention asshole, nothing much else exists at the moment… because of course he is wrapped up in his own little one man play (or one wimminz) and there is nothing written in his script for me to do or say back at him.

Usually this you is also the only fucker not to realise, after the event, that once I started looking at you with my full attention, I hardly said a damn thing, if anything at all… and it has to be said, not bigging myself up here, fifties plus skinny cunt yadda yadda, and not like I’ve got a justly deserved rep and a few rows of headstones up on boot hill that I sent there, but the ones who intervene do know one thing that motormouth doesn’t, he and I have completely different attitude about what is going down, and when I say completely different I mean mutually exclusive.

In fiction and hollywierd it would be all me ex special forces made a pact with the devil the very air temperature dropped ten degrees and death stalked the world and everyone  knew it and swallowed as their balls shrunk up into their stomachs.

In reality it is one cunt, one other cunt (me) and one or more other people in a whole bunch of people, maybe 190 people, who basically don’t have time for any of this shit, they just want a chilled night out.

If it’s 190 countries and not 190 people, and the world political stage, it don’t work that way anymore… individual human timescales and perspectives are lost, and yet it is individual humans with their perspectives and timescales calling the shots.

I, and a lot of other fuckers around the planet, got that funny feeling where we know we can’t work out the answer in advance, and therefore plan accordingly.

I, and a lot of other fuckers around the planet, may well get that funny feeling where the super saturated solution crystallises and we realise, hey, they were all playing Russian Roulette….. with our lives….  assholes….

September 4, 2014

Three dead guys

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 11:22 am

alternative title, people I have known who for some reason all popped up in memory recently…

Stiff #1

This guy was ex-services, real kool-aid / indoctrinated type, had known him for a while, he got into me because he thought I was like him, he was wrong on this, I just never liked sitting in a room with my back to a door and all that, even from a small boy, also never liked being on a floor I couldn’t climb or jump down from, you get the drill, but in my case it was all natural genetic shit from a small boy on up, he thought it was because of military training, which is how he latched on to me.

Dude was always going on about “situational awareness” and stuff, figured I was not aware enough “any more” and had gotten “rusty”, whereas he always had a k-bar and an MRE and a ghillie suit hidden in his jockstrap… lol…

Guy got taken out with a hammer to the head from a new guy who turned up to the bar a couple of weeks previous and looked like trouble waiting for a place to happen, and he figured this yank had some cash stashed.. yolo dude…

Some situational awareness there eh…

Stiff #2

This guy was one of those totally annoying fucks, lol, he was damn good looking, tall, well built, smart enough, got a good job, made every chick for miles around wet and when he stood near them they couldn’t help it, they just fell on their backs with their legs apart… but, he was actually a nice guy too, *guys* liked to be his friend, not wingman, friend, he was actually a pretty good bloke, and being brutally honest most of the guys were jealous of him, you know, what has he got, like everything man..lol

Not that he was any stranger to banging good looking women, but one day he turned up with this chick…  hey, I have always been a real cynic about beauty, but this chick just took your breath away, and then you walk up close and the personality and pheromones made that 50 yard away first impression look like a faded watercolour left out in the sun and rain… one of the most genuinely *beautiful* women I have ever seen in my life…

Course, it made sense that stiff #2 found her and got her, lucky bastard, but, you know, he was a nice guy, she deserved a nice guy like him, not one of us lads, who would just have fucked her rotten.

We’d had a few discussions about him being cool and smooth vs me being lucky and all round peg / square hole, then his folks get killed in an accident, he is suddenly all alone in the world, as in, nobody there to serve as point of reference for being cool and smooth, but hey, lucky bastard inherits all that money too, and it was a lot, business empire ongoing shit.

Within a year, responsibilities of the business and fair weather friends who loved his money, they guy has gone all grey and wire thin two dimensional and workaholic, the drop dead gorgeous chick had eventually turned into an obese jewish pwintheth freaky skank with lapdogs type wife who didn’t give him a child, and it was only a matter of time, dead of massive coronary failure due in part to the pretty much constant amphetamines and cognac to get through the day.

Stiff #3

This guy was a remittance man, back in the day, if you were an extreme asshole and your parents were loaded and had social status, they pay you to stay away, far far away, and as long as you stayed away, the cheques kept coming every month.

Shakespeare could have written a play about all the dysfunctionality in this lot, but hey, life was never boring…lol

He’d had a string of floosies, before he settled with one girl, and promptly started pumping out kids and keeping her tied to the sink and eating in a bid to make her unattractive to other guys… I ended up fucking her for a while anyway, which we had a standoff at high noon sort of row about, we ended up having a couple of beers, and he said to me I hate you and you’re a complete cunt, but, I’m still glad it was you and not any of those other bastards, cos you don’t give a fuck about her either, they’d have given her all that baby I wanna rescue you from this shit stuff…

At the time I wondered if I was the trigger, but looking back I was just a symptom, he was losing it anyway, and it turned out the folks back home were getting old and decrepit and losing social standing and no longer the wealthy socialites they once were, so the cheques were becoming less regular and all that shit.

So his behaviour and drinking and so on became even more off the wall, plus the eldest kids were hitting puberty themselves, and that makes a man look at what he is doing with his life.

Boats and alcohol don’t mix, and one day the piper came calling for his fee, nobody knows exactly how it happened, they found the boat, and 3 days later they found him, or what the fish hadn’t eaten after he gassed up and floated to the surface again.

So there we have it, three dead guys, and I’m still not sure what started that train of recollection, but…..

Stiff #1

His ending was ironic, given his situational awareness ninja shit, he certainly didn’t see it coming.

Stiff #2

His ending was ironic too, given how everything just fell into his lap, he certainly didn’t see it when he was young, but then when shit started to change, it’s almost like he got given another role and just shrugged and got on with it, knowing it was a slow and grinding death.

Stiff #3

His ending was ironic too, given how basically the world owed him a living, and paid it every month, just so he never had to change, but time and entropy kicked in anyway, and everything around him carried on changing, including his own tolerance for the lifestyle, and he also didn’t see it when he was young, but it soon dawned on the remittance man that winning that early prize meant losing at everything else, and for some time he’d been challenging death to come get him, time is past due.

The common thread in there is irony, and I think irony is an under-appreciated and unacknowledged fundamental building block of life, irony isn’t contradictory so much as it is complementary…

Irony is the mono-sodium glutamate of modern life, you can’t buy shit from the supermarket that does not have MSG in it, and you can’t have shit in modern life that doesn’t have irony in it.

I think, obviously I do not know, but with hindsight and analysis I think, that all three dead dude were aware of the irony in their lives, and FUCKING HATED IT.

For my part, I am I believe largely aware of the ironies in my life, and find it all moderately humorous, in a dark way.

Hudson: That’s it, man. Game over, man. Game over, what the fuck are we supposed to now, huh, what are we gonna do?

Burke: Maybe we can build a fire, sing a couple of songs, huh, how about we try that.

You know, there is a thing in the ‘sphere lately, if you ain’t trying to make a difference, put the brakes on, steer the ship, you ain’t shit.

Irony just grins, and says yeah man, and if you are, you are *still* part of the fucking problem, not the solution.

Compared to dude #1 and dude #2 and dude #3 before it all went wrong, my life at the present is pretty tame and lame, compared to them after it started to go wrong, my life at the present is pretty chilled, compared to them after boot hill, this flame is still burning.

Living isn’t everything, but dying before your time isn’t anything.

August 31, 2014

You’re all my bitchez now

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 12:37 pm

So, Facerig…. let’s say I choose not to use the default fluffo avatar, lets say I choose to use the commander avatar, here he is…Facerig-cosplay-avatar

OK, all well and good, and it confers several advantages… as discussed before about “lossy” systems being one way streets, there is no way you can analyse that face, and get back to my face.

Forget cosplay and fucking around and just doing it for the fun, I like it because it allows me to publish videos that cannot ever at any time in the future be definitively tied back to me.

It’s not like oh I uploaded all those pics to facebook years ago, and then wham, they brought out facial recognition and tagging, and now it’s too late…  because of the aforementioned “lossy” substitution process, no future algorithm is going to be able to go backwards from that face to mine, ID wise.

It’s all fun and bubbles.

Of course, you don’t have to use the supplied skins for the avatars, you can create your own.

So, what happens if I decide to use this guys videos / appearance as my new skin…

Yeah, *today* it wouldn’t pass muster as DMJ, unless maybe you degraded it and claimed it was a CCTV or old 8mm video rip from the days when DMJ was a raghead urban terrorist, going around blowing up balloons at kids parties… but like the person above who didn’t foresee facial recognition and tagging on uploaded photos, it’s only a matter or time.

What’s that? Voice, you say, well… no, see, the Facerig beta also already has basic vocal filters built in, certainly enough to mask my voice, and the killing point is that (to once again use DMJ as my sacrificial lamb) once I use DMJ’s face as my avatar, I do not actually have to substitute my voice and accent and inflection and so on, for a perfect copy of his…. oh no… all I have to do is make it sound a *bit* like him, eg, like him either deliberately trying to mask his voice, or accidentally garbling it a bit because he has some settings wrong in the encoding process.

Let the technology go a bit further, after all, it’s only limited by algorithms and processing power, and it does not *necessarily* have to done in real-time like Facerig, and I can *be* DMJ, or Paul Newman, or Sly Stallone, at least as far as any subsequent viewers are concerned.

Maybe, just maybe, at that point we will get to the mass understanding that if it is digital, it really doesn’t matter what it depicts, you can’t treat is as being more real than Tom & Jerry, CCTV and so on all becomes utterly worthless because it can all be faked so easily and trivially…. all that counts is a man’s word, given in the flesh, or maybe hand written and notarised / witnessed documents, yeah, I saw the evil bastard blowing up those balloons… poor defenceless things…

Money, of course, has already got there… >;*)

I log in to my e banking this morning to pay a bill, and it says right there on the screen, Hi AfOR, your bank account number 12345678 has an available balance of 12,345.00

That shit is indistinguishable from the folding linen and metal shit in my wallet and beside it in the saucer with the keys.

It really is a direct analogy to the slightly in the future real DMJ video and the fake DMJ video of him calling for the freedom and liberation of helium from party balloon bottles…. and the direct analogy isn’t just for the obvious reasons, they are indistinguishable, digitally speaking.

The other salient reason is that only he and I will know for sure my version is a fake, and he won’t necessarily know who I am, who fitted him up, but the point is, nobody *else* is going to give a shit, just like nobody else gives a shit if my 12,345 is electronic credits showing on the e banking page or a wad on the sideboard, either way is good enough for me to buy that 10,000 item from them.

I use these two parallel examples, because they show nicely how *they* are going to be reluctant, to say the least, to accept that anything digital can be faked, and is therefore worthless…. no, you can’t convict the guy on the CCTV showing him killing and beheading the guy, because it could be faked and look just the same.. not gonna happen.

Same with the folding paper money vs my digital e banking balance, or debit card money, e-wallets, so it will come back to the old story, DMJ’s opinion of my faked video of him, and my opinion of my faked video of him, nobody gives a shit, nor do they give a shit about the facts, all they will give a shit about is what the STATE thinks.

This is a known legal principle BTW, in courts one judge will look at things and come up with what is called “a finding of fact”… it is of course anything but, it’s just an opinion, often an incompetent / corrupt / incorrect one, but from that moment onwards , *everyone* in the system treats that opinion as fact.

You don’t have to control or understand the software suite, or the virtual printing press or anything else, all you need is the ability to be the one who decides what is real, and what is not… if you are that person, or figure, or agency, then, you can look out at the world and say, you are all my bitches, and it is true.

Being brutally honest, it doesn’t matter a damn what you or I or DMJ or anyone else thinks about the authenticity or otherwise of his video, or mine, or the ISIS ones, or MH17 black box data, or NATO satellite pictures, or the USS Liberty, or anything else.

All that actually matters is what the agency that can look at us and declare us all their bitches says happened.

I can create and issue my own https credentials for a secure site, and then visit it in firefox, or share it with you, and firefox will tell me that because Verisign don’t “trust” that domain, which they will suddenly do by the simple expedient of me paying them fucking money, the site can’t be trusted.

And you and I are still looking at a blank fucking page, not the page we REQUESTED, but some other blank intrusive page, and we have to click an ominous ARE YOU FUCKING SURE, RETARD, box before we can proceed.

I guess the point I am trying to make here, is now and again something comes along, and as a consequence of that, lots of people start asking all sorts of question, of the sort that you can imagine would arise if I chose a Facerig avatar that closely resembled DMJ, and then even more people start discussing the questions, trying to arrive at sensible and workable answers.

And none of it matters, because the agencies that see us all as their bitches already have the answers, and their answers are the only answers that count, their answers are the reality.

And increasingly, their answers are unrelated to the questions being asked, rather the answers are suited to the desired outcome.

(and I must interject a sincere and heartfelt apology for invoking Davis all the time as my corpus delicti in all these scenarios, it just so happens that being a real person with real facts such as a youtube channel etc he just does make an ideal actor in this little play)

So imagine this scenario, not a big step from the Facerig one.

A guy who has access to the *actual* unedited unexpurgated full bitwise perfect *real* copy of the MH17 cockpit voice recorder data, he isn’t sure what to do with it, and one day he says I know, I’ll send a copy anonymously to DMJ

Meanwhile, another guy who is a whizz at these things, irritated at the *crickets* from everyone on the subject, decides to create a digital *fake* copy that might explain certain things, scenarios and suppositions, having made it, he isn’t sure what to do with it, so he says I know, I’ll send a copy anonymously to AfOR

As we can see from the above discussion, it doesn’t matter a damn which copy is in fact real and fake, all that matters is what the agency who sees us all as their bitches tells everyone is the real one, and the fake one, hell, unless they were both, purely by coincidence, a perfect bitwise duplicate, they could say BOTH were fake, and that would become the facts.

No? You dispute this?

Look at Snowden’s “revelations” and I put that in quote marks because frankly speaking NONE of them were either unknown or unexpected or not speculated upon prior to his disclosures.

What’s changed? Whose head was separated from their body? Who stood public trial? Who lost their job?

Cos the agency that sees us all as their bitches had already decided the answers.

Not all these agencies are the same.

Shit gets real and serious when two powerful agencies release two mutually exclusive answers…. one looks at one group of people, and says all you bitches need to know putin done this, and the other looks at the same group of people, and says all you bitches need to know obama done this.

And then one day the two agencies don’t just set on mutually exclusive answers, they set on mutually exclusive answers that specifically blame the other agency, either way you are all our bitches, and y’all are fucked…

So the technology that permits and allows such questions to be raised by the proles in the first place becomes the target, again, not because of what it actually is or does or enables, but because at some point in the future some agency can see that thing challenging the status quo, where you are all unthinking obedient bitches.

What if, instead of my example of just me imitating DMJ, everyone started to imitate him, and he became the modern equivalent of the V/ Anonymous mask… shades of the dead kennedy’s, and I don’t mean the band, so much as the armed robbers who liked to wear party masks of dead kennedy’s and other presidents.

 

You gotta wear your moto sickle crash helmet at all times, except when you’re paying for fuel, gotta see your face on the cameras in case you is a robber, but you can wear a burka and pay for fuel, I guess not enough people have worn burkas to do robberies.. yet

 

Yet another case where you know the answers are already written, us bitches just haven’t been given the fucking memo yet.

 

August 30, 2014

Strange dreams

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 9:42 am

I don’t always remember my dreams, and when I do I don’t always think much about what prompted them, it doesn’t take much intelligence to draw lines between the remembered dream sequences and shit that happened the previous day.

So last night, interesting, slim but reasonably good looking skank that I had occasionally popped in the past, three guys drop by, I’d seen them there before too, so again no issues, one guy basically chucks the skank down on the couch, she isn’t complaining, it’s obvious she is used to it, the two other guys ignore the skank’s kid, which is in the room, and grab the dog, one holds the dog down while the other fucks it.

I of course, ol snake eyes, just sit there watching the free porno.

It’s not so obvious to me what promoted all this, but I think the ongoing latest hysteria about the northern asian / paki gangs raping pubescent teen girls is in there somewhere… and the two guys fucking the dog, that spelled atrocity all over it, as in IRA Atrocity, as in “spectacular”, as in an act designed to shock and outrage, like be-headings, but also like false flag operations…. ZH and other places have articles about impending false flag ops on home soil.

That moron cameron and the skank may both warning that the terror levels posed here in the UK have never been higher, of course there is the NATO conference in wales next week.

I think that’s what the end of the dream was about, I didn’t run out of the room in horror, the three guys were looking at me and I just said “I don’t have a problem with this (got no skin in this game)” and at that point instead of being confrontational, they all just left.

I looked at the skank, reclassified lower in light of the new info, and left myself, probably not to return or pop again.

Interestingly there is a hazy post event sense that this dream skank, were her clothes removed now, would reveal there are no nipples, and no vagina, not androgynous so much as a mannequin.

I kinda know where that bit came from, a conversation I actually was having with some skank, about some guy she knows on the net, and how he is into genital mutilation, and I said that is a sure sign of a sick mind, and there we go.

Anyway, in other news, I’ve been playing with the facerig beta, and I’m liking it a lot, at present being a beta, you can’t export the stream to file, but it is getting there, so hopefully in a month or two I can do some v-blogging.

Facerig is funny, there is  standard set of base characters, and you just can foretell what types of people and personalities are going to gravitate towards which avatar, yeah yeah, I’ll go for the macho commando type as that will make my words more authoritative… fnaar fnaarr.

But it also highlights other things, some of them are to me obvious anyway, but it still highlights them, such as comparing facerigs output to the camera input, it is a filter, and filters emphasise things as well as discarding them.

I wonder how many people realise how much effort, for example, DMJ puts into his videos, and I’m talking camera angles and lighting and preparing the dialogue, nothing at all to do with what you actually see on screen, all the background stuff.

Frankly the production values of ISIS latest videos and pamphlets shows the same level of background professionalism, gone are the days when you could re-sample crappy 8mm video and say here is osama planning to destroy the statue of liberty, it is so artificially fake with todays digital technology… akin the the latest alleged bovingtonsatellite video of russian tanks allegedly in ukraine, well, it’s just fucking indeterminate black and white blobs babe, contrast that to google earth shots of Bovington tank museum, you can clearly see two tanks on the right of the main road, and if you know your tanks, you can identify them too…

So now to have any credibility suddenly we have modern digital production values on all the terr’rist shit.

And I still don’t buy it.

Why should a slick digital marketing campaign from ISIS be any more truthful or honest than a slick digital marketing campaign from Proctor & Gamble…. ISIS, makes your non-whites more muslim, just add it to every wash….

Credibility has a flavour all its own

 

August 25, 2014

The trouble with fortune telling

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 3:20 pm

Talk to any divorced / separated guy where the dust has settled and it is all rear view mirror shit.

It’s the same as talking to a cancer survivor, they may well be able to put one or two X’s on the calendar and say this is the day I got handed that sheet of paper by the doctor, this is the day I first coughed up blood, but asking them when it all started, and when it all ended, that’s a hmmmm question, maybe several pots of coffee later you’ll get a final definitive answer they are happy with, accuracy wise.

But, by the same token, ask them, are you divorced, are you separated, are you beating cancer, is your marriage over, these all have pretty much instant “yep” or “nope” answers.

They are all talking about processes that happen and evolve over time, but from one perspective you are trying to place markers in that timeline to divide it up into chapters or sections like a storybook, and the other perspective is simply asking is it history yet?

If it is still unravelling, it isn’t history, and if it isn’t history, you have no idea where you are in the timeline of events, is this the end, sure feels like it, or maybe it is just the end of chapter one, and there are 11 more chapters to go, and with hindsight, it was only in chapter 5 that shit really started to get crazy…

The primal folly of being human is something that you can hear all military types who went off to a hot war say, after the event, “we never really thought *we* would get killed”.

Of course, by definition, only the survivors get to speak, but even so, what sort of fucking idiot thinks you can go off to WAR, WAR FOR FUCKS SAKE, and not really think that it does anything other than *dramatically* increase your chances of dying young.

No, *you* fucks can all go off to war, I’ll stay behind and fuck your wives and girlfriends up the ass.

No, prophecy is a tricky business, I knew one guy years ago, fellow biker, no fear at all, not much sense either, I used to always say to him that he was gonna fucking kill hisself, he always laughed, still here aren’t I asshole, I went away for nearly a year, came back, down the pub, hey, it’s a Friday night, where’s JC?

Dead, months ago now, lost it blatting over the downs, went head first straight into that big granite milestone on the corner at seventy…..

oohhhh….

But, prophecy isn’t just tough when it comes to individual events, it also applies to whole series of things, I’ll be honest with you, at 16 I had no real idea how my life was going to turn out, what I was going to do, or amount to, or where I would go, or what I would be.

Looking back, I can’t say any of it was unpredictable, nevertheless, at no point did I have any future insights that were worth a handful of shit.

And if my oracle of delphi act falls flat on its face when I try to apply it to something as insignificant as my own life, what hope is there for looking at western society as a whole?

Sure, I can do like I did with JC back in the day and say you’re a mad fucker who is going to end up badly, but calling how or when or to what extent, no way.

JR was another one from back in the day, now, he wasn’t a mad fucker, he just wasn’t a lucky fucker, he died last year, but it took him 5 years to go, he got totaled by a blind fuck in a Volvo, ended up a T5 paraplegic, ended up with just over a quarter of a million compo, of course, the insurance company being bastards knew that being a T5 paraplegic really fucks your life expectancy, so instead of paying him the lump sum, they offered him 40k up front at 20k a year for 11 years, which meant they trousered 120k when he died after 5.

He sure as hell didn’t predict he’d end up like that, nor, I suppose, did the blind fuck in the volvo, who apparently lost a leg as well.

It’s the problem I have when people ask me for advice.

All I can offer them is all I have myself, there are some strategies that you can implement, some things you can try and avoid, trying to position yourself so you can adapt to whatever does come down the pipe, apart from that it is suck it and see, I got no more idea than you, in the words of the Goose, I just got here myself man.

This dipshit, familiarity breeds contempt, playing with toys that he thinks will allow him to get a shot off fractions of a second quicker than with the bog standard safety method, compare that with a guy who takes a full send to draw or even a second and a half, but who always hits what he aims at, at range too, and by range I mean 75 metres… knew a guy who could do that all day long, hit coke cans at 75 metres with a 9 mm, never fucking missed, his draws weren’t quick though…,. at 50 metres he could hit them swinging…

It’s like the old revolver thing where you only loaded 5 and always kept an empty chamber under the hammer, just in case, and the standard response to the question “what if you need more than 5 rounds” was two fold, you’re fucked, and you shouldn’t a bin there in the first fucking place…

5 rounds to ol Jake was 5 headshots.

Like those guys who play pool, who once they get one ball sunk they always just get on and clean the table, if you are as good as them, it’s all down to sinking one off the break, if you ain’t as good as them, you may as well just hand over the ten and walk away from the table, never having picked up the cue.

Course old Jake learned to shoot “barking”, I had no idea what barking was, and he explained it to me, you had one long gun, that was it, probably a fairly large calibre, never any optical sights, too fragile, so you wanted something to eat, say a squirrel.. but sometimes a bird.

If you aimed AT the squirrel, you blew the shit out of it, there was nothing left to eat, so you aimed at the bark, not the branch itself, but the bark, that the fucker was stood on, so we are talking better than bullet diameter accuracy or you go hungry, get it right and the bark burst upwards, stunning, breaking bones and sometimes even outright killing dinner, that fucker could *shoot*, I can remember him picking up an old .308 and firing at an ant hill a *good* 400 yards away across the river, and standing behind with binocs watching the bullet, he would hit that ant hill every fucking shot.

Ol Jakes advice about being in a gunfight would echo mine about life, if you are in a place where shaving 0.5 seconds off your draw time is significant, you already fucked up, and you *still* better off hitting what you want with every single shot.

eg there *may* be theoretical situations where the cowboy quick draw is the deciding factor, for values of the truly exceptional people who can already shoot the balls off a gnat at 50 paces while drunk in the rain and in the dark too… for everyone else, it is just an exercise in burning up your limited time doing anything *but* the few things you could do in theory that might actually make a difference.

That’s the other difficult thing about prophecy, even if your advice is fucking good, which it is unlikely to be unless it is fairly vague and addresses your PRESENT weaknesses, chances are, whoever is getting the “benefit” of it won’t wanna hear what you have to say.

But the biggest difficulty of all with prophecy is that the penalty for being right is often worse than the penalty for being wrong, I have literally lost count of the number of people who literally will not speak to me any more, because they asked me what I thought about some business venture or some romantic involvement or some family problem, and like a fucking idiot I told them exactly what I thought, eg it has about 999 ways to go very badly wrong and fuck you up, and they ignored it, and it did go wrong and fuck them up.

Prophecy, you see, is useless to those who do not want to change themselves, they just want to avoid certain outcomes, nooo man, they will say, you ain’t listening, I’m not trying to avoid the casino, or the roulette table, I’m trying to avoid letting it all ride on 13 black and LOSING, hey…

The only way *that* can happen is if others are forced to change what they do, in order to accommodate *you* not changing what you do and still reducing the risks to you.

See this guy, even with an open chamber, he never sweeps the camera guy.

Plus, he does the opposite of the doofus above, this guy is all KISS all the way down.

and the proof, 425 yard shot with a 9 milli, first shot on target.

impressive

 

August 24, 2014

Technology rarely lies… too much…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 11:06 pm

WhatsApp, I use it quite a bit.

I can look through my contacts, (does just that to prove a point) last seen 22/08 at 22:03…

looks at contact which is in fact my other phone, gives the same info, turn other phone off and remove battery, gives last seen date and time…

Reinsert battery in other phone, power up, open whatsapp, BLOCK my first phone.

Go back to first phone, look at contact of second phone, suddenly no status as to when last online, send a message, same as normal but you only get the one tick, message sent, the second tick, message received, won’t come up.

The kicker is the no status as to when last online, that is the sign you have been blocked, the second tick, well, their phone could be off, or they could be in a weak reception area, but it will still say when last seen online, even if that was last year.

So this skank, I mentioned this a day or so ago, decides to block me and move on, fair enough and fuck you very much, but I sent her an email saying fine block me and get on with your new old start in life, like I give a fuck, can I have my shit back that I left there, and do you want to collect your fucking iphone (like me, she has more than one phone)

So I get an email response , which my mate saw as he was here and I was using the big screen, and this email says basically I dropped my phone in the water that’s why I ain’t been in touch, but fuck you back too and kthxbye.

Now my mate is saying to me, could be true, and I say to him, no, for starters, this skank lies, I know this for a fact, and for seconds, if she had dropped her phone in the water, my phone would still show her last online status.

So the whole I dropped my phone in the water thing is a lie.

Now, don’t get me wrong, if she wants to block me, that’s fine, her life, her right, that isn’t the issue, the issue is the lying, and the fact that the technology doesn’t back up the lie, it exposes it.

What was the purpose of her email, which did not even mention my shit which she has, or her shit which I have, all it says is if that’s all you think of me then kthxbye, and that she didn’t block me, she dropped her phone in the water.

She says three things, we already know the second thing is a lie, she may or may not have dropped her phone in the water, (thing one) it’s not relevant, but she did block me. (thing two)

And the third thing is the driver, blaming me, I did wrong, she didn’t, and for falsely accusing her, allegedly, kthxbye, which is the thing #2, but now it is justified somehow.

The driver is the anatomy of the lie, and the liar.

She could not NOT send that email, falsely claiming innocence and also victim-hood of my allegedly false assumptions…. in her own mind she knew that just blocking me instead of saying hey, it’s been fun, but I want a fresh start, was the cowards way out, and the wrong (much less than optimal) way to handle the situation.

What I found amusing was my mate’s relative “weighting” of the technology saying one thing, and some skank with monster tits saying quite another.

Whereas the reality of ongoing contact between us meant her maintaining the ongoing and ever more complex web of lies that she had built about her life away from me vs her life with me, because she knew damn well I did not buy *any* of the shit she fed me about her life away from me.

But.. my mate says… how do you know for sure?

The technology *could* be misleading, well, yes, it could, in theory, in practice, as a by product of the time we spent together, and I am not talking about or including the digital content that *I* created, I am talking about content that she created while we were not together, but left lying around my place digitally, simply because she doesn’t really grep the technology, and did not turn off syncing and backup, even when I told her to, after the sync and backup served its purpose at at early visit, I have a 4 gigabyte backup of everything on two of her phones, and a 95 gig compressed backup of her pc, and no I am not going to show it to you, consisting largely as it does of home made porno still and video and swingers hookups and so on, all of which are also created with date and time stamps, and yes, I can tell you for a fucking fact, the only time I can guarantee she wasn’t lying to me was when I had my cock down the back of her throat.

(why should I delete it, it wasn’t created without her knowledge or permission, it was created for a purpose, which it was used for, I don’t use it, it just sits there, archived and ignored, consider it future insurance, you can’t be too careful.. see elsewhere on this blog for talks about digitally archiving every fucking thing… just in case)

But, the other killer is this, I sent my farewell but what about all this fish email to the three email accounts of hers that I knew, cc’d, I knew she had others, but didn’t know the actual email addresses, the reply came from a domain I did not know she had an email account with, sent via a phone on a network I did not know she had an account with, in a completely different name from the kind of name she usually used.

Lots of people will have JohnSmith@domain, and JSmith65 (being the year of birth) @domain, and JohnnyS@domain, but even then, there is a limit to how many different emails most normal people will normally use….

I’m kind of at that limit, 4 email addresses that I use, on three different domains, and two mobile phones, on two different networks.

One thing that became apparent about my psycho skank ho ex was that she had about a dozen or more emails that she used regularly, on half a dozen different domains, and with significantly differing handles, like JohnSmith@domain1, JukeboxJonny@domain2, JayJay@domain3 and JonJones@domain4, etc.

And this skank is doing the exact same thing.

So, in her desire / need to tell me this lie…

1/ she just underlines the fact she is a liar.

2/ she reveals yet another user name she is going by

3/ she reveals yet another email account / domain

4/ she reveals yet another mobe contract / sim card / provider / network

All of which simply highlight the compartmentalisation that she is attempting to use to keep all these separate threads of her existence separate from each other, and failing miserably.

I would lay good money that she doesn’t in fact remember what lies she has or has not told me, and couldn’t work it out if her life depended on it, and it is fact this complexity that goes a long way towards being the ticking clock on the *relationships* that she does form.

Incidentally, talking of technological prowess, these sorts of skanks will typically have thousands of pictures on their PC, a good proportion of which are porno selfies, and yet, the sum totality of pictures is usually “organised” into just two or three folders, all of which sit under C:\users\skanksname, right alongside C:\users\skanks13year old son and C:\users\skanks15yearold son, both of whom of course grew up in the digital age…

And this ongoing train crash is what my mate thinks *might* be telling the truth, OK, the bitch has genuinely big tits, and she is a genuinely willing and dirty and will do anything you like at all fuck, but that is *it*

He looks at me askance… Do you like her, he asks… *NO*

Did you ever, he asks, no, can’t say I did, sure, there was a period there in the beginning before the proofs came in that X Y and Z that she has told me were lies, and during that period there was I will admit an acceptance of the idea of spending every weekend fucking her ass off, you know, she would have been OK to *own*… but even that, it has to be said, was 99.9% theoretical, I never actually bought into any of it emotionally, or built any castles in the sky of my own, much less actually thought about giving up my pad and cohabiting or any of that shit… it was a good free fuck… that’s all.

Do you wonder about what could have been, he asks.

You mean, like could have been as in if shit were shinola, purest impossible fantasy stuff, or what could have been as in a total fucking train wreck involving police and social services and all the rest of that shit, quite possible real world shit?

I tell him, I could, if I wished, go through that 100 gig of archives of hers, and I could pull out every pic and vid selfie of her fucking, and I could then pull up *my* data, and compare the two, dump all the pics that pre-date *us* and all the pics that post date *us*, and then go through the rest, and what I do find interesting if I do that, and I haven’t, but I have glanced though the archive, isn’t that when we weren’t together she was fucking other guys…

Does that bother you, he asks… no, why should it, I was fucking other sluts…

No, what is interesting is I am 99.99% sure that *NOWHERE* in that archive is a single picture or mention of me.

No, don’t ask me why I think that is, that is one rabbit hole I do not want to go down, but during that period, I was seeing her *way* more than any of these other guys, and I know for a fucking fact she had at least three naked selfies of me, because I fucking sent them to her.

Do you miss her, he asks, in any way at all.

No, the sex was good, no doubt about it, but the lies man, they kill the sex, they kill the sexual response, they kill the “phwoarr” response, it’s like looking back at a now famous rock band that are crap and sell outs, but you saw em many times back in the day, when they were taking off, but had not yet slid all the way down the sewer….

.. for sex today, hey, I got another skank, a little older than this one (who was 20 years my junior) but nice and compliant and dirty and a good sized pair of tits, and who hasn’t actually told me any significant lies yet, so what’s to miss?

I’m supposed to miss damaged goods?

Yeah, I feel a sort of melancholy, it’s all so fucking senseless, she is her own worst enemy and in a world where shit was shinola she could change into something better and turn her life around, but in this world, with my life ticking away a day at a time, and me with no skin in that game?

Bitch has two teenage sons who *definitely* are aware of exactly what she does, and a pre-pubescent daughter, and it all just gets fucking worse from there on in.

And then my mate said the dumbest thing I have ever heard the asshole say, and I said to him, in all the years I have known you, that is the dumbest fucking thing I have ever heard you say… he said do I think her environment and circumstances made her the liar she is, you know, building castles in the sky as a sort of self defence against the harsh realities of the fuck-up that is her life.

So, you don’t think that’s the case then.

I said, water finds its own level.

I can introduce you to people living in shit-hole estates with fuck all spare cash, and they don’t tell lies, and their lives aren’t a never ending train wreck, because they know how little of a buffer they have, and because they know that actions have consequences, and enough of them you can’t claim the exception proves the rule.

Her living on a sinkhole estate or her getting through 100 cocks in a year didn’t make her have a dozen or more different emails and so on, and compartmentalise life into different castles in the sky, nor does being the kind of dishonest person she is with dozens of email addresses mean she has to live on a sink-hole estate or get through 100 cocks a year, not everything at the waterhole is a croc.

Hell, there is a woman not five miles from here with a ton of money and property and everything else you can think of, in every other way she is identical to this bitch, damaged goods. (and that doesn’t imply some other cunt did the damage neither)

Living in a shit-hole is a CIRCUMSTANCE.

Lying like a cunt is a CHOICE.

My mate says yeah, now you’ve said that, I got the words to explain what I really mean, couldn’t explain it proper before, its like, when the whatsapp thing happened, you just, ok, maybe not jumped, but went straight to the conclusion she blocked you, and when you saw her email there, you went straight to the conclusion she was lying, and ok, she lied to you before, but does that mean she *couldn’t* have been telling the truth, like, shouldn’t she, or anyone else, have the chance to be believed?

But, I said, the technology rarely if ever lies, the only two ways that you can not get a contact’s status on whatsapp is if they have blocked you, or the whatsapp network isn’t synced to your phone properly, so you reboot the phone and it syncs, and I reboot my phone daily, I’m a cunt like that, and it was three days her whatsapp status was giving no info.

OK, like, she *was* fucking lying man, like, she has (for the time I have known her) always been a fucking liar, leopards and spots man.

Dude, I tell him, technology can lie, sort of, the oil pressure warning bulb that doesn’t light up because it is blown and so it doesn’t warn you your oil pressure is low, or the dead neon in the mains extension lead that doesn’t warn you the lead is live.

They aren’t *lying* to you, there is no INTENT TO DECEIVE…. it doesn’t sit there and say “Fuck him”, or treat you differently to me, it doesn’t have an AGENDA.

Liars all got an agenda, and the only thing that is ever on it is themselves.

That got nothing to do with having a hard life of living in a shit hole.

That’s about a total lack of respect, and sure, your oil pressure bulb don’t respect you either, but it is inanimate, so the full phrase is a total lack of respect for another human being.

How can she respect me, when she doesn’t respect her two technologically turned on teenage sons, and keeps pics and vids and records of her sexual exploits on computers the whole family uses, even the pre pubescent girl?

It’s all part of the greater whole man.

Sure, I may take it personally when my psycho skank ho ex dropped an FRA on my ass, and it was personal, but I ain’t the only fucker she pulled that on in her life, on the contrary, you can’t find nobody she did not shit on.

He got it then, 99.99% of our ACTIONS, not personal circumstances, but ACTIONS, are characteristic of our personality, it is incredibly rare for someone to do something truly out of character, leaving the toilet seat up, switching a light off when you leave a room, washing a cup or putting it in the sink and leaving it, checking zerohedge before you check slashdot, or vice versa, having multiple emails, or blocking people on whatsapp because you can’t think of any new lies that even you would believe, it is all IN CHARACTER.

I didn’t see something and jump to a conclusion, or claim the boy had cried wolf, or anything else, there wasn’t a rush to judgement, it’s just observation, like observing that a particular vending machine only ever drops out tins of 7up, it doesn’t matter what button you press, all you ever get is 7up.

So when tomorrow rolls around and you see (no matter who pressed the button, or even if they ASKED for a 7up) the same machine drop a can of 7up you just nod to yourself and think ayup. No change there then.

No matter what the CIRCUMSTANCES of our past purely sexual relationshit…

… the skank CHOSE to lie to me, the same CHOICE she made numerous times in the past.

I don’t judge her for her CIRCUMSTANCES, I do for her CHOICES… and EVERYONE has choices.

Except technology, technology doesn’t have free will.

As he was walking out, my mate asked, so what has these recent events with this skank done, have they actually made a difference to how you see her?

I said yeah, if she’d just ignored me she would have been filed away in my ex skank mental filing system as some ex skank with a significant large negative number -n, representing the depth of the hole she has dug in my estimation.

Since she replied with yet more bullshit and lies, that negative number is now greater and that hole in my estimation is deeper, it’s already well below my water table of would get involved with again, so now its just a case of deepening the well, or cess pit.

Not just got no skin in that game, but thank fuck I got no skin in that game, so long, and thanks for all the kinky fucks… In the words of Captain Cornelius Butt, I never forget a face, but in your case, I’ll make an exception… and the next time you’re passing my door.. keep going…

« Newer Posts — Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: