Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

February 9, 2014

Click my links motherfucker

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 11:39 am

Cos everyone wants to be popular.

A certain MGTOW site (site a) is harping on about how another MGTOW site (site b) that is dissing them is a fucking loser, because site a gets so many more hits than site b.

Obviously nothing I say has any value whatsoever, because I get 6 hits a year, hang on a minute while I beat myself up for being an unpopular loser with a small penis who needs to man up and get hits…

Nothing it seems is allowed to have any internal value all by itself, some external metric must always be applied, and that is all that ever counts.

“You don’t listen”

If I talk to you, it is because I am saying something, it really is not my problem if you do not take the time to consider the import and accuracy of what I am saying, and treat it just like some other noise you hear from some wimminz or niggerz pie-hole.

Who absolved you of the fucking requirement to make an effort?

So time passes and it’s an “I told you so” from me, which is just as unpopular as the original message…

So here it is for a young lad brought up by a single skank ho mommy.

  1. It doesn’t matter if she is good, bad, or indifferent, your mum is female, there is nothing she can teach you about life as a male.
  2. You are a male, there is nothing any female can teach you about life as a male.
  3. None of your male contemporaries have any more experience than you. There is nothing they can teach you.
  4. As a male, none of the safety nets and options that are automatically in place for all females are in place for you, neither the state nor anyone else has your back.
  5. Every single action you take in life has consequences, and those consequences ripple forwards in time until the day you die.
  6. As a male, NOBODY has your back, nobody is going to provide you with a roof over your head, a bed to sleep in, running water, a toilet and paper to wipe your ass, food, clothing or laundry… if you want these things, you will have to provide them for yourself, for the rest of your life. Nobody else gives a fuck.
  7. If you are not prepared to stand up and look everyone in the eye and admit it tomorrow, next week, next month, next year, twenty fucking years from now, don’t fucking do it today.
  8. You got what you got on your plate today, and that is all you have to work with.

Number eight is the most important one.

Wimminz and niggerz will talk shit about a glass being half full or half empty, all bullshit, because both include the concept of what might have been.

Yeah kid, it’s not your fault you were born to a slut who sent you to a shit school and your bedroom to play video games while she was sucking on random cock yadda yadda yadda.

It’s not my fucking fault either, and nobody gives a fuck, the only FACTS here in town are that right here and right now what you got on your plate is all you have, and all you have to work with, everything else is bullshit, including comparing it to what might have been, or what Fred has on his plate, or how you got here, or anything else, you got what you got, end of.

You got what you got, what is on your plate right now is all you have to work with, any plan or course of action that does not accept that as a primary and over-riding principle is doomed to ultimate failure, no matter how good it seems now or how close the payoff seems now…

There is only one thing on the planet you should ever man up about and accept and get over and get on with, and this is it.

If you want what little you have on your plate now, along with any possibility of improving it in the future to disappear, ignore item number seven too.

In fact, what you have here are 8 simple rules to live by, anything that does not accept that all 8 of them are true, in a form of logic gate approach, is something to avoid doing or participating in.

As important as what the 8 rules do say, are all the myriad things the 8 rules do not say, ain’t nothing in there about having fun or having a great time or being cool or getting laid or dreams coming true.

Even if you live to 80, by the time you are 25 you will probably have cast the mould, if we discount the first 15 years as childhood, that means the things you do in the first 10 years of your adult life set the boundaries on what you are going to do for the next / remaining 55+ years, and if that doesn’t sober you up, nothing will.

Even if you think you are already fucked, have nothing to lose, and won’t live that long anyway, you’re still wrong, and you’ll have 50 years of adult life to reflect on that…. and no fucking time masheen….lol

As a 50+ year old man, I am fucking surrounded by wimminz and niggers who serve no other purpose quite so well as to underline the profound and universal truths of these 8 simple rules, and the absolute impossibility for any mere human being to escape them or their reach.

Like the click thru rates, I have wimminz in their 30’s who are clinically obese, living walking delusions, bringing up bastard children, make believe jobs or living on the state tit, no intellect to speak of and no intent whatsoever to accept reality, who think that they are, as far as I am concerned, a fucking catch, something I should be chasing.

The reality is that their entirely negative values can only ever be mitigated somewhat by being a cum receptacle for me, and to any real extent by submitting all authority and decision making to me.

This of course they are not prepared to do, because this requires an awareness of rule number 5.

——————————————————-

When I was growing up we were heading into an ice age, then later on we were heading into a runaway greenhouse effect, now it is climate change.

Something like 95% of all greenhouse effects (once we also accept that solar output both varies over time and is also outside man’s ability to influence) are due not to carbon dioxide or barbie sparkles or ozone or anything else, but to fucking WATER VAPOUR.

Never seen anyone with a plan to affect that on a global scale.

Right there you have the problem, 99% of the planet are operating under delusional bullshit, the delusion that they know what the fuck they are talking about, and lest you fall into the trap, a significant proportion are totally and utterly convinced not only that they are right, but that they have the facts too.

Here, in the south west of the UK, we have had rainfall slightly above recent historical averages, for values of slightly up to 50%, and recent for geological timescales as insignificant as 40 or 50 years.

The famous south coast railway line, that runs along the coast between the Exe and Teign rivers, has been breached by the sea.

Now people from all over are standing up and asking what asshole thought it might be a good idea to run a railway line along a beach.

That would be one Isambard Kingdom Brunel, which, if you were not a mental midget, you would already have known, and if you were not a mental midget, you would know you were singularly unqualified to even pass comment upon his engineering decisions, and if you were not a mental midget… you get the idea.

Of course, I remember the storms of 44 years ago, that were as fierce, that tore up the platform at the station in question, and said platform was never reinstated, and the groynes out on the beach that Brunel put in to build up sand bars and combat longshore drift were never either reinstated or even fucking maintained in my lifetime, but they were pretty much wrecked by the storm 44 years ago….. sea walls that I could jump from to the sand below as a boy now have a 30 foot drop to their footings… instead of waves breaking on a rising sand bar and losing much of their force, they slam full strength into a stone wall and footings… a stone wall that was not maintained and pointed routinely…  You get the picture…. none of these FACTS are even mentioned in the MSM dialogue today though…

Similarly the below sea level Somerset levels, everyone is claiming the problem is the rivers are not dredged, but water cannot flow uphill, and it would have to for the carrying capacity of the river to be a factor, the only factor is the pumps to transfer water from the drainage canals to the sea level discharge of the un-dredged rivers, the increased building on “flood plain” type land, and trivial insignificant recent works like fucking great motorway embankments cutting through said plains, that and 50% more rain than normal.

But no, it is all someone else’s fault, so anyway the Great Western Railway that Brunel built and operated has basically ceased to exist, the line is now cut in three places, it is not possible to travel by rail from the south west to anywhere else in the country.

There *used* to be alternate routes, but they were torn up in the 60’s, and now with the way things are run with independent companies owing the track, the stations, the franchises on the stations, the rolling stock, the signalling and so on, is it really any fucking wonder.

If you see parallels to the Great Western Railway as Brunel built it, and what there is today, and women and men as they used to be, and wimminz and niggerz as there are today, well, welcome to the club.

Thank fuck I was born early enough not all the wheels had fallen off society, and thank fuck I was wild and carefree enough to do the things I did, I have memories, and I have discharged urges that dwelt within, I’m (largely) content to pull up a chair next to Nero and chill while Rome burns, cos, you know, there was no decline before Nero got there, oh no…..

DILLIGAF

800px-Dawlishstation_001

800px-Dawlishstation2

olddaw1

olddaw2

olddaw3

February 8, 2014

A tale of two bars

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , — wimminz @ 12:22 pm

Bar one was run by the guy who used to produce Manfred Mann, it was OK, there was a periodic influx of famous names from the charts of the late 60’s and 70’s, I drank there maybe three times, maybe five, saw and heard everything anyone had to say.

Bar two was run by a guy who’d got out of Argentina during one of the purges.

Intermission.

Familiarity breeds contempt. For a wimminz, the difference between the so called alpha bad boy that makes her cunt drip and the beta loser who annoys her but can open his wallet and pay for her is just that, one is or has become familiar. Once you learn this, you learn there is no such thing per se as alpha and beta, just those that hand a wimminz all the keys to their soul, and those who stay as autonomous independent nation states…

Intermission.

The music guy talked about all the great things he had done to party, the argy guy talked about all the crap things he had done to survive.

Guess which bar I spent most time in.

Sadly, the bars of my youth are as gone as the speakeasy’s in the states, and they have gone because the people running them have gone.

I discovered long ago in life that there were “crews” of guys, recovery guys who worked motorway vehicle recovery, carnie guys who worked fairs and circuses, road guys who worked the blacktop, you get the picture, and each one was a certain breed, and when you did those jobs you either fitted in or got the fuck out, and fitting in was becoming one of them, it’s lifestyle.

The bars of my youth were still largely run by lifestyle guys, and it was at their feet that I learned that trade, to such an extent that many years later when an Egyptian running a 6th fleet bar decided that his face wouldn’t fit, him being an a-rab and all, and gulf war 1 having just kicked off and all, he asked me if I would run the place during opening hours, which were 10 am to 2 am.

Guy told me after he had never been so busy or taken so much money, all I did was what I had learned at the feet of bar guys, 4 guys walk in, four buds please, my response, WHY? yeah dudes, there is a bottle of bud, it is 225 pesetas, there is a bottle of San Miguel, it is 125 pesetas, both are free, enjoy and take your pick, the next ones you pay for.

The bud was yank bud, not the authentic stuff, the bar made 50 pesetas a bottle, the San Miguel was Filipino beer under licence, the bar made 75 pesetas a bottle, within 3 hours the word had spread and the place was rammed 18 hours a day for the next week, all drinking San Miguel at 50% greater profit per bottle, all because I gave away 4 x two beers at 10:05 on day one and told the customers the truth, this is better beer, cheaper for you, and more profit for me, you choose.

That and three other “tricks” was all it took, that and being able to emulate that old barman personality, if you think the barman has the coolest and smoothest personality you ever met, there will be no trouble of any kind in the bar, no matter how much booze is drunk…. the XO’s just started ignoring the place, there was never any trouble there, either inside or out.

Who is going to cause trouble? The beer is half the price of bud, which is all the other fleet bars stock, the burgers are OK, there is at&t phone home for dear john phone calls, a couple of kick ass ink guys, some hot young whores, great sounds, and the place is run by the coolest barman you ever met, who is apparently fucking all three chicks behind the bar simultaneously (the chicks agree that this is so) so they are off limits too… Not only that, they won’t rip you off, when you get drunk and declare your love of the place and try to drop the last 100 bucks of your liberty money as a tip, the barman gives it to one of your more sober friends, with witnesses, and tell them to give it to you back on board, so the second day after this happens the place is totally fucking rammed…. sardines clamouring to buy beer…  This is too good a deal to screw up, or to allow anyone else to screw up.

To me, none of this shit was amazing, this is just what you do when you run a bar, guests under your roof.

I got totally fucked because most of my early life I grew up around competent guys, Jock L who was an alcoholic who had to literally drink an entire bottle of red label so he could steady enough to work, and work was splicing a 75 mile long cablecar system where each car carried 40 tons of coal, splicing the cunt UNDER TENSION, long splices, so the diameter of the cable didn’t alter…

Watching Hollywood and MSM portrayals of these sorts of guys, “mavericks”, is like asking a bunch of west coast 1% patch bikers to sit down and watch Sons of Anarchy, and expecting the TV to be intact 90 seconds after it starts.

Only way fuckers could portray these things so badly is they have never actually seen and experienced them in real life.

Mavericks weren’t assholes because they were so good at what they did they could get away with it, mavericks were so good at what they did because the only other alternative was to stop being an asshole the rest of the time… fuck that shit… may as well wear a tie to work and shave every fucking day… (hey, guess what I do now…lol)

My gig now, I’m one of the very very very few who does wear a shirt and tie and shave every day, ain’t that rich irony for ya, but, I’m the point man, the *only* one seen in the flesh, so shirt and tie and sleeves rolled up, do they see the cable guy or the cisco kid, no, they see the fucking consultant specialist, they are on board and on my side before they know it.

You gotta dress the same, but different, back in the engineering days everyone else would wear one piece overalls, white or tan or brown, I’d wear two piece green, bright green…  I used to tell people, I can be invisible in any country in the world, within the limits of skin colour, just put on a pair of slightly dirty overalls, dirt on your hands, oily rag hanging out of your pocket, nobody would even see you, much less make you out as a foreigner, walk into any bar with other guys dressed the same and point at the beer and put the money on the table, you don’t even need to speak, better if you don’t.

So now it is non descript black denim pants and decent quality black shirt rolled at the sleeves, and always always always a quality tie.

Ask people 48 hours later who was there and the only thing they will remember is the tie, pass them in the street 7 days later and they don’t recognise me, turn up the next day in my tie and bingo, hello mate, how are you…

—————————————

In my *night* job, now that the IT doldrums of January have passed, 2014 is shaping to be the year people buy laptops, hate windows 8, and ask me to put windows 7 on them.

The difficulties are two fold, number one nobody supplies physical install / restore media any more, so #1 task has always got to be make sure you can rewind, that means pulling the hard disk and taking an image of it.

Personally if you are running windows I recommend Macrium Reflect for this.

Once you have done that, and verified the image, use Easus partition manager to wipe all the partitions on the disk.

Now your fun starts, back in the day, everything had a BIOS, now, not so much, hello UEFI, anything from a lowly cheap Tosh with celeron to a so called high end Acer with i7, and it is a pain in the fucking ass, because once you decide on install source, DVD or USB, you run into the problem that win7 was written before a lot of this hardware existed, so at the end of what looks like a working install you get a reboot and the install fails, no drivers…

If you gotta buy a laptop, Buy  Lenovo / stinkpad, T series only, S series at a push, nothing else.

If you are a glutton for punishment you *could* go online and get the drivers for each individual machine you do and slipstream them into a custom win7 install image for each install, but life is too short.

  1. Disable boot security, if it is enabled the the UEFI / BIOS
  2. Set the UEFI / BIOS to compatibility mode, CLS or whatever they call it.
  3. Disable USB3 mode if possible, USB2 if only
  4. Set SATA to IDE, not AHCI
  5. Install win7 Pro 64, not any of the home versions.

At that point the install *should* work, should… no guarantees… some, like the Acer mentioned above, simply do not want to play, at all, for variations of at all that include life is too short.

Grab USB install stick (PowerISO will make a bootable USB stick, just point it at the iso image and the usb stick and sit back) for the latest distro of Suse, and sit back, cunt just fuckin’ works.

Course the punter now has a linux install, not the win7 one they wanted, some will be happy with this, some won’t, hence step one, way back up there where you took an image of the hard disk… sometimes you can do no more than hand that shit back in EXACTLY the state it was when it was given to you and make no charge…. hey, at least you haven’t fucked anything up.

Make no mistake, UEFI is all about saving money, it isn’t *better* than a traditional BIOS, Basic Input Output System, just enough to get the OS loaded and working, it is just cheaper.

Win7 was written before UEFI so it assumed the basic fresh install can rely on the BIOS to do really basic shit like interface to the IDE/SATA/USB interfaces without any drivers as such.

UEFI was written assuming everyone is going to install win8 which knows all about native USB3/AHCI interfaces etc.

Assumptions will fucking kill you, including the assumption you can roll back, if you do not have your own independent method of doing so, such as a whole disk image. I like Macrium, the physical disk was a 700 gig job, the macrium image which you can mount and read all 5 partitions on, is 20 gig… in a USB3 HD dock the whole job takes 8 or 9 minutes.

It’s the same in the day job with the cisco shit, #1 #show flash: so you know what is there, #2 #show run and pipe the lot to a log file so you can always no matter what get things back to the state they were in when you turned up.

Do these basic things and do them WELL 100% of the time, you can be the maverick and get away with the rest of your life and attitude.

Otherwise you better be prepared to change the rest of your life and attitude.

Or take a look at any wimminz or niggerz for what happens when you attempt to deny both options, which are strictly either / or options, baked in for life.

For Hans, and others.. >;*)

February 6, 2014

Detectives discovered she had sneaked off to meet lover Matthew Richards

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 11:51 pm

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2553220/Wife-cried-rape-six-year-affair-secret-month-wedding-avoids-jail.html

February 3, 2014

Beds are Burning

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 7:31 pm

So, I’m on-site today awaiting a courier, as often happens, and things being what they are today that means standing by the road if you want a smoke.

So I’m stood there smoking away, and this little silver peugeot turns up, young guy and young lass, arguing, she’s driving, he gets out, still arguing, well fuck you then, he slams the door shut, she drives off… he pats his pockets, pulls out his smokes, pats his pockets some more… fuuuuuck… looks at me.. “Got a light mate?” he asks.

I’m just grinning at him as I hand him the zippo, so before you know it he is telling me the story, doesn’t really matter what it is, it is utterly predictable, pwincess is gas-lighting and shit-testing him.

My courier still hasn’t turned up, and he still doesn’t feel calm enough to walk the mile to their home, so we both smoke some more.

He says to me how are you supposed to make all these choices all the time, and make the right ones all the time. It’s just too complex. Isn’t it.

I look at him for a minute, say no, it’s really very very very simple boy, and I could tell you, but be really sure you want to hear the answer, because you will either hear it and change your life, or ignore it and cement yourself into the life you have forever.

You choose.

I think if the skies hadn’t opened then and we moved back under the eaves, he’d have chosen to walk, but they did, and he didn’t, and so he asked me.

Well, it’s like this, there are beliefs, and there are facts. Beliefs and facts may be about the same thing, such as global warming, and beliefs and facts can also agree about the same thing, but they don’t have to.

Normally what happens is a person doesn’t have a fact, they just have a belief. Sometimes they think they have a fact, but it is really just a belief.

Your problem boy, is you are making decisions based upon things that are not facts, you’re either making decisions on a belief, because you do not have a fact, or on a belief, that contradicts a fact… sometimes, on very rare occasions, you will make a decision based upon a belief that is supported by a fact, but you’re still wrong, because you made the decision based upon the belief, not the fact.

He was hearing me, but not comprehending.

I gesture outwards, is it raining? See, that’s a fact, because the next random person to walk down the road will say “it’s raining” if someone 100 miles away rings them on their mobile and asks what the weather is… now say that person 100 miles away asks the random person walking down the road if you love the chick who just drove off in the silver pug, or if she loves you, what are they going to answer?

He says they won’t know, will they, how can they know.

There you go, it’s not a fact is it, it’s not something someone else can touch or feel, it doesn’t make their clothes wet or their ears cold, it’s a feeling, a belief… the FACT is you chose to part company with her and get out of the car, and the FACT is she chose to drive away, the random person walking down the road would see THAT, and be able to report it to the person 100 miles away on the phone.

He’s quiet for a minute, we both spark up another smoke, he tells me that is all well and good, but if he took that approach, he’d turn around and walk THAT way and not look back, and not that way 1 mile to the home he shared with her.

I feel a disposable bic lighter in my pocket when I put the zippo away, my fingers play with it for a few seconds, I pull it out and hand it to him, there you go boy, and sorry.

Thanks he says, but what are you sorry for.

I’m sorry for how you will feel on the day in the future when you recall this conversation with the random guy you met by the wind-farm and bummed a light from…

Thanks for the light, and the lighter, he says, and walks off in the same direction the little silver pug went.

February 2, 2014

Ten little niggers

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:48 pm

I have actually been *the* white man in a country of black men, surrounded by black men, so I have seen first hand, for example, the fucking *enormous* challenge the white trainers had to get black troops to actually absorb the drill and lessons.

One day they would be issued rifles, and three weeks later the black recruits were still closing their eyes when they fired, and working under the assumption that the harder they pulled the trigger, the faster the bullet went… and I shit you not here, I am being completely literal… unfortunately, only those who have first hand experience will know what I mean.

To everyone else, I am “racis”

When I tell you that the black men were like children, which is the real reason people called them boys and not men, again, I will be told I am being “racis”

When I tell you that education doesn’t matter, you can take the black out of Africa, but you can’t take Africa out of the black, and as soon as he gets off the plane having been educated in England, and heads back into the bush, he reverts to type, I am being “racis”

Well, it can be as “racis” as all get out, but it doesn’t change the facts on the ground, and the facts on the ground were the sanctions you had to use to get the “boys” to behave like men were things you simply would not consider  doing with white men.

For example, if you employ white men, you have to assume some of them will steal valuable things, and most of them will steal pens and paper-clips and so on, and some will steal nothing, and all will have various reasons from being caught to just not worth getting sacked for or well it’s only 50 cents

With the blacks, assume every last one of them will steal everything that isn’t nailed down, this may not be actually literally true, but if you treated them like white men, the end results would be the same as though it were actually literally true.

Whenever you came across someone who did not treat the “boys” this way, because it was “racis” and wrong, that person never actually grew up around them, they were a recent import.

I’m coming to an age now where experience triumphs over expectations every time.

Let’s take an example, and make it slightly ridiculous to make a point, lets say there are whites, and blacks, and if whites and blacks mate, the offspring are milk chocolate brown, doesn’t matter if the father is black and the mother is white, or vice versa, the offspring will be milk chocolate.

Now go around and round up all the milk chocolate babies, and separate them into two groups.

Those who were born to a white mother and those who were born to a black mother.

Most of them will be born to the white mother, nobody talks about this much, but it is to be expected, white wimminz have a wider range of acceptable breeding partners than black wimminz, it’s a hardwired genetic thing

So, back to the point, treating the blacks as boys, because if you treated them as men and equals you got bitten in the ass.

As I said, I am at an age where experience triumphs over expectations every time, I do not necessarily find this to be a pleasant or edifying experience, but I cannot deny the reality of it.

And so, as a function of age and experience, I have come to a point where I see no difference between treating all African tribal black men as boys, boys with adult male bodies and tempers to be sure, but emotionally and intellectually as boys, and treating all wimminz as girls.

NO African “boy” ever willingly assumed the yoke of subordination to the white man, not out of true freedom of choice, where all choices were equally open… the ones that chose it did so because being under the yoke of the white man was a better deal than being “free” in the tribal life of the village.

A sentiment every working white man who ever walked the earth can attest to, none of them ever paid for permission to go to work at Encorpera.

Those that adopted the yoke did so because the grass was greener, others were not given a choice, and the grass was still greener, and those that wanted to throw off the yoke only wanted to as long as they could retain access to the green grass, none of them wanted to go back to tribal life and the status they came from…. that option was always open to them.

You can see the parallels to the modern white wimminz here.

Now I was raised a catholic, and I don’t go in for the anti-catholic rhetoric, although I personally am as lapsed as it is possible to be, I find all religion to be a crutch for the weak minded, but, having seen it first hand, it is impossible to overstate the *turmoil* that the catholics caused when they turned up in Africa with priests and nuns and tried to impose a whole set of new beliefs, non African beliefs, non tribal beliefs, beliefs that carried a lot of weight, because even the most humble and poor missionary or nun had access to wealth beyond the imagining of yer average African.

When the native is dressed, literally (I have photos, and you can see me in them so you know they are contemporary and not photo-shopped from 1901 or anything) in a tie dyed rag headscarf that came from India, and a sack that still clearly says Eureka Flour Mills as a dress, and nothing else, buck fucking naked apart from the dirt, then the most humble and poor nun in her white cotton robes, gold metal ring signifying her betrothal to God, and metal necklace and metal cross, it has an effect like an intergalactic spaceship landing.

When the village chief lives in what used to be a mud hut, but his vast and awesome wealth and status sees his hut not covered in thatch and mud, but in old cast off and stolen corrugated iron, a thing as awesome as a medieval cathedral, and these “poor” missionaries and nuns turn up and start building stuff with tools, and you get square buildings and straight walls and peaked roofs, all clad in gleaming new corrugated iron, you just gotta see it first hand.

Then these indescribably wealthy aliens start preaching this creed about selflessness and giving up all worldly comforts and living in simplicity with “nothing”

And if you listen to them, they will show you paper, and books, and pictures, and tell you about things back home, real wealth and power.

Yeah man, I’ll chuck all this tribal shit and sing songs to this God of yours, if you are the poorest person in your country and you can still come to this country and make our chief look like a termite in his mound, I’ll sign up for that shit, and any other message that you want me to tell you I believe in.

While I am at it, Africa is not the cradle of man, some of the natural resources out there, fucking mind numbing, so the Welsh had coal mines, go to Africa and dig down 30 feet and you have the start of one open cast pit that held as much coal as all the welsh coal mines ever produced, go to Cornwall and find the copper mines, then go to Africa and find whole fucking mountains practically made out of the stuff, I myself have cut “stick”, four inch around, six feet long, strip the bark, whack em in the ground and use the bark to lash them all together as a fence… 2 months later the fucking stuff is sprouting, stories of planting a walking stick in the ground and it will sprout roots, not all that exaggerated… and yet when the white man turned up they weren’t even iron age, does not fucking compute… and they they go and get their English educations and come back and kick the white man out, and everything fucking collapses, cunts can’t even keep it running when it is gifted them.

This isn’t “racis”, it is fucking fact, white man went to India and the Rulers there laughed at what we considered wealth, even today, you could go to India and look at the railways and think my god what crap, and then you look at the sheer numbers of people it shifts daily, and pretty much on time, and shifts in excess of SEVEN FUCKING BILLION passengers annually… it’s awesome, then compare it with Africa, and it’s not like India didn’t have similar issues, colonialism, caste systems, wars and pillaging… but they were a different fucking breed to the blacks.

Same shit with wimminz… now, I will be the first to put my hand up and say I do not, can not, and never have, driven a proper truck in anger for money.

So I catch this shit from Oz, some bint who used to be a model and used to be a mum and used to be a businesswoman, hear me roar, her and her co-driver get in a truck to do a trip across Oz, and the bint balks, because the truck in question has a manual gear stick, and she can only drive automatics…. I dunno what the rest of the show said, and frankly I don’t give a fuck if she can back that bitch up like a pro or anything else, how the FUCK can you get a fucking licence and call yourself a fucking truckie if you can only drive an auto?????

WHY the FUCK is there is even one man in the entire continent of Australia unemployed, when this cunt has a job as a truckie????

Fucking Leyland tipper I used to drive was a rigid, 11 tons or so, and an exempt vehicle, so I would never even dream of calling myself a truck driver, but NO POWER STEERING, NO POWER ASSIST CLUTCH, and NO SYNCROMESH manual shift box…. fuck it, most of the cars I started driving didn’t have syncro in 1st or 2nd, and unless it was something posh like a Merc, or a yank car, it was stick shift…. and this fucking cunt calls herself a truckie???

Now don’t get me wrong, the difference between the blacks and wimminz is that in actual fact some blacks are not like that, some of them are as good as me or better than me in any way you care to measure, which is why I say I am not “racis”, because I would never accept that any black man could be my equal or better if I was a racist, and I have met black men who were my equal or better, and considered myself fortunate to count many of them as friends.

So it isn’t the same, it isn’t the case that I accept that it might be so in theory, but in practice I never met one, experience triumphs over expectations, some black guys are not like that, and I know that as a fact, just as I know most (where my definition of most includes Africa etc, cos I have been there, don’t just mean most within a ten mile radius of me) are like that.

With wimminz, I have NEVER YET MET ONE, and every fucking time I thought I did, every fucking time I thought here was a wimminz who was actually exceptionally good at this, lo and behold, she was standing on a hidden platform held up by men.

Experience triumphs over expectations.

When you’re young you start to wonder what the fuck is wrong with you, to keep attracting these crazy fucked up children that call themselves wimminz, why can’t I get a proper woman? Is there something wrong with me? There must be, because all of em can’t be like this, so it must be down to me.

Eventually, you have released the pound of lead and pound of feathers at the same moment enough times, you realise the result is never going to change, and the weight isn’t, as you have been told, the all important factor here.

The pound of lead is always going to hit the ground before the pound of feathers, you are always going to only ever meet fucked up lying crazy bitches.

Zimbabwe is never going to make the most of it’s vast resources and advantages, and the blacks there are never going to drag themselves up to be on the same level as the white man used to be on…. to be sure, we are no shining example at present.

I’m a realist enough to know that if I was born as a female, or born as a black man, I would not view such things with the same level of equanimity that I do from the perspective of an educated white male, patronage and patronise have the same root, one is good, one is bad, and one cannot be thrown out without the other.

You can have the white man going to Africa and lording it over the natives, and the natives end up better off than if he was not there to exploit that which always existed, but which they did not have the wit to exploit for themselves.

Or you can import a culture that does not belong, all are equal before God, which is patently absurd in the extreme, and it turns into a clusterfuck, because wimminz who can’t even shift a fucking transmission will start calling themselves truckies, and for every one that does, a man that could do the job is denied the job.

There ARE black men in Zimbabwe with ability and knowledge, I know this for an absolute fact on a personal basis (although, to be fair, most of them preferred to leave and ply their trade elsewhere) but when they see their own personal opportunities taken away and given to those of no ability of note, and when they see the fruits of their own personal labours not merely just taken away and given to others, but seen as an object of envy and jealousy, is it any wonder that they make no effort at all.

Bitch, you can look at me now, and say, old man with no future, earning a pathetic wage, living in accommodations too small for a family, there is no attraction there for me.

I have been (self made) wealthy twice in my life, hell, I was a (true) millionaire before I was 30, briefly it is true, but there was a 7 digit bank balance, plus my other assets, and I was working a physical hard fucking work job seven days a week, and pulling in a quarter of a million a year nett, you lack the intellect to see that I am that black man of ability and intellect living in Zimbabwe, staying dumb, staying below the radar, staying inconspicuous, and I like it not, but, what other sensible choice do I have?

The only possible route out is one directly through the middle of the bubble of your own ego and entitlement and undeserved privilege and status.

And you won’t stand for that.

Not while you have any power or influence at all remaining.

So you look at me and reject me as being inadequate for your desires.

I can live with that. You are the one that is doomed by it.

A ship can only have one Captain, if you will not allow me to Captain the larger ship with your kith and kin and progeny on board, and hold sway over them all, then I am quite content to be Captain of this “inadequate” little single berth tub, and hold sway over only myself…. anything larger would be a folly, a hostage to tempest and tide, and this old sea dog isn’t in that great a rush to see Davey Jones.

Oh, and when your run by a committee gin palace starts going down by the stern, I know enough not to get too close, and get swamped by “survivors” like you, though I may, just may, make space for one small cute one.

Let me leave you with a little thought, a gem of wisdom, a distillation of experience over expectation.

Countless people spend countless thousands of hours deciding what wheels to put on their bike, spoke or cast,  40, 80 or 120 spoke, 3, 4, 5, 7 webs cast, chrome or polished or black.

You know, you can only ever tell, even gross features like spoke vs cast, when the fucking bike is parked, you can’t tell when it is moving.

So all that energy goes into something that can only ever be seen when the bike is unused, all show, no go.

January 31, 2014

More than a feeling

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 11:33 pm

———————————————————

———————————————————

 

I dunno, what can I say, just got that feeling, like something unexpected*** is heading this way… some little cue or trigger I haven’t consciously noted… the pregnant pause while waiting for something to happen…. dunno what, but it feels like something will.

Wimminz I know, all acting more peculiar than usual, significantly some in some cases.

It’s a bit like that just given up smoking feeling, in the space between realising you want a smoke, and not wanting a smoke, there is a period where you feel something ain’t quite what it should be, but you can’t quite put your finger on it.

Speed limit here is 70, normally I’m pushing the high side of 85+, well into keep your eyes peeled or the bastards will stop you territory… last few days I find myself pegging it at 75 and leaving a bigger gap.

I just generally seem to be acting more cautious than usual, shrugs, who knows, there is certainly no downside to being more on the angel side of fools rush in where angels fear to tread for a while.

 

*** unexpected as it may well be obvious in the rear view mirror, but from here I have no idea at all.

well, that was a pleasant surprise

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 10:57 am

Wasn’t planned, but on the way back from a rellies last night I got a call.

I guess you’d call him an acquaintance, he moves in the same fucking circles as me, but we have hardly talked, anyway he got my number from someone, he did tell me but I forget who, he’s got a PC problem, lost all his data, irreplaceable shit, pics of his kids and stuff, kids he no longer gets to see.

Turned out it was a software issue, eg the data was corrupted on the hard disk, there wasn’t a physical issue with the hard disk itself, so all it took was a copy of R studio and a USB SATA dock and a couple of hours.

So what do we do for a couple of hours? We got talking…Ariel-Sharon-Dead

So the subject comes up of the ones you have been fucking and it is all apparently fine and then suddenly they just stop having anything to do with you, no warning, no explanation, no data at all… I get the message, but I’m naturally inquisitive, so it does run through my mind for a time before she falls off the radar.

And I dunno how or why, but he was a very easy guy to talk to, so I rattled off a few names as examples, and he is just grinning at me.

He goes through each one, asks me, can you tell me when this was that you were with her, and how she was at the time and what she was doing at the time and what her life was like… just humour me bro he says.

4 of the 6 names he knew, and knew the stories for.

So he filled in some gaps, gave me information I didn’t have.

#1

She had a kid, kid wasn’t well, often in hospital, but there you go, we were going great, one day she drops by for a few hours for kinky sex, we text back and forth a bit, she has met a guy, she drops off radar…. that was two years ago.

Well it turns out she made some bad choices, everything she touched turned to shit, he doesn’t know if the sick child is still alive, he doesn’t know if she is still alive, he does know she completely dropped off the radar about a year ago, as in completely vanished, and no updates on any of the social media sites (which I avoid like the plague anyway) she just vanished, presumed dead in a car crash or something.

#2

This one apparently made bad choices too, I hooked up with her at point X on some slide into shit, at the time I thought she was a fair way down the slope, turns out I was wrong, she was just getting up speed.

Turns out she was crashing in a pad with three black immigrants, who were giving it to her in all her holes, as was any one of their friends who stopped by, but apparently she was such a nightmare that despite the unlimited anything sex she was offering, she’s steal their shit and drink their booze too, so they throw her out, and which point she starts screaming and kicking the shit out of everything, she is throwing rocks through their front door, which is now hanging off the hinges, the po-lice turn up, and she accused the black guys of raping her and kidnapping her, and this is all done in the street, and this is the point that your man’s current at that time FB turns up, as she is a friend of this wimminz, and this wimminz called her friend for help.

Tells you something about the situation that the po-lice simply ignored all the rape and kidnapping allegations being thrown out (I guess it wasn’t the first time this bitch cried wolf eh…) and arrested HER for criminal damage, and then assaulting a police officer, and then damaging a police car.

Last he heard she was somewhere up country with a relative, nobody knew anything, and good riddance.

#3

This was a funny one, because I actually liked her at the time, before she wore out the welcome mat, she is still around doing the same shit, but less of it, on some course or other, but finding it a struggle, and that was the summary really, life itself all over was getting harder for her, so everything in life got harder and less and less time and effort available for anything else, the light in the tunnel is the train coming towards you thing.

Yeah, cry me a fucking river, but talk about self inflicted wounds, this was a chick who coulda… ah WTF, just another anecdotal instance of yet another wimminz able to make the wrong choice and choose the wrong man every time, and never learn the lessons.

#4

This was of course the most recent, as I’ve done these is chronological order.

Shades of #3, tick fucking tock, you get older and no wiser, everyone else gets older too, some start dying, your support network to enable you to be a pwincess starts drying up, you’re a fuckup and you know it… it’s like watching a junkie slowly circling the drain, telling you how much they have fucked up and how much they hate themselves and how they have plans to beat this shit, and by god they are gonna do it… they have plans… all sorts of plans…move, new house, get a job, get healthy, get this, get that, get the other.

But they ain’t, the enemy within, so they go through a succession of “enablers”… white knights trying to craptain save a ho, I think I got canned for not playing according to the expected script

This one hung in my head for a bit because she made a great thing about never having told me a lie, and I can’t actually say I caught her out in a single lie of any significance, and yet she was one of the most dishonest people you are likely to meet, perhaps  an MPD, who knows.

Anyway she thought she found another Craptain save a ho so forgot I existed, turns out he wasn’t, and apparently white knights are getting thin on the ground now, and her life generally is springing leaks all over and the pumps now need manning 24/7

———————————————————–

I can’t say any of the stories really surprised me, they were all pedestrian and predictable and senseless and faintly sad.. I would like to be able to conjure the effort to shrug and sigh and say “What’s the point?”….

And yet… I’ll admit to feeling a certain amount of smugness, it must have set in overnight while I slept like a baby after finishing his data recovery, but I do, I feel smug, stupid fucking bitches, walking away from me was a bad choice, just one more in a lifelong series of bad choices to be sure, but none of them profited by walking away from me, they’re all further down the slope than they were.

It’s a Roman Holiday, the gladiator is torn to pieces in the arena for the pleasure of the peasants, I really have no issues with seeing all these valiant and independent and empowered wimminz seeing themselves as gladiators, provided I can be the peasant, the one who is entertained, the one who is the peasant, not craptain save a ho or craptain gives a fuck.

In fact, this peasant takes much pleasure, and yes, it is *smug* pleasure, from noting that combat in the arena does not cease when this spectator’s attention wanders elsewhere.

Me “What happened to Gladiatoress #4?”

Fellow spectator “Oh, she got consumed by fire ants a couple of horae ago… or was that #7?  No… #7 was killed when the wall fell on her, so it must have been #7..”

Me “Cool, now where is that cake vendor? I’m feeling peckish“

January 30, 2014

The guy she is currently fucking…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 7:33 pm

… gives as much of a fuck about YOU, as YOU gave about the last guy she was fucking before you… assuming of course there wasn’t an overlap, and there prolly was…

…so tonight this 16 year old chick is telling me my problem, and the thing is, she is right, I’m just fucking jaundiced when it comes to wimminz, I don’t believe a fucking thing they say, if they tell me the sky is blue I will look up, and I am always looking for the proverbial razor blades in the fleshlight.

“Don’t get me wrong…” she says, “… I don’t fucking blame you, girls are all lying sluts…”  she is one of those unfuckable under any circumstances chicks, not that she would necessarily fuck me, but she is forbidden territory, due to circumstances more than personality, so we have this wicked uncle ernie thing where we will hang out and have a coffee or two whenever our paths cross, but that’s it.. so she tells me shit and I tell her shit.

She tells me shit like this is her third boyfriend who she has caught using viagra, and no, the boyfriends are all her age…  I mean, WTF…  WTF are 16 year old guys doing taking fucking viagra???

I dunno, maybe they need something having grown up (literally) seeing single skank ho mommy fuck pond life, and I know technically there was no such thing in my yoof, only the infamous spanish fly which was so strong some girl took it and fucked herself to death with a coke bottle, or some such bullshit, so technically we never had any erection pills available even if we had wanted them, but even so…. just…. WTF…. I used to jerk off 20 times a day, every fucking day, at 16…. to get it to stay DOWN…

The big fucking news however is that she, and all her girlfriends, still have their fucking iphones, but the bank of mommy and deadbeat daddy has apparently downgraded them all, they are all now on pay as you go sims, same as the fucking boys, although the boys have to buy their own fucking sims and top ups… so it seems the real world economics have hit the teens..

Dunno how it works where you are, but the PAYG types here can go into the local shop and put a 5 or 10 note down for a top up, and the shop gives them a code, and they type the code into the phone and bingo, credit applied to phone..

So she tells me, she’s got this friend called Donna, who has started taking it up the ass for a £5 credit, how it works is you buy the credit, she sees you do this, you fuck her up the ass and then give her the code to type in her phone… I asked her for Donna’s number but she just grinned and called me a disgusting perv… oh well… lol

So I ask her if this sort of whoring also goes on for paid apps in the app store, “well DUH, of course it does old man…” she says, she’s only 16 and not tech savvy so there was no point explaining the current furore over Angry Birds and the NSA, so if you paid for that for the skank then Donna got fucked twice, once by the guy who stuck his cock in her ass and once by the NSA…

So I ask her what’s the difference between some 16 year old punk paying Donna a fiver to TIUTA and me paying her a fiver to TIUTA.

She leans close and says “You know, it’s not your age, young girls like me don’t have a problem fucking old guys your age, it would probably be really good, you’ve got to know so much……. it’s just…. well, everyone else, our mums, our brothers, every-fucking-one in their twenties and thirties and forties, they’d all give us fucking grief..” she shrugs..

I tell her, “don’t I know it girl, and before you know it that grief turns into a false rape accusation…”

“Yeah..” she says…

We have to break off the conversation there, because those “circumstances” came walking up, her mum and the very close relative that is her step-father, so she flips back into Barbie mode… these two adults see us, she has her iphone4 out and my two Samsung’s are out, and we are using them, cos all these conversations with young uns get punctuated with showing you shit on a phone, it’s like Italians and their arms, they can’t talk without them…

So my very close rellie, her stepfather, sees this and says in a sort of fake and joking stern voice, “I hope you’re not encouraging her… I have bought enough bloody apps for her…”

I nearly shit myself laughing…

She just looks at me, all Barbie innocent, and says “God you’re so weird Uncle Ernie..” and flounces off to play Barbie does Dallas or something.

They are still looking at me, WTF, I just say forget it, an inappropriate joke I heard earlier, that line you said made me think of it…

Oh….. whoosh…

Gather round….

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 10:36 am

…for I am about to tell you a secret.

You know all that giving it large I am this that and the other hear me roar wimminz bullshit, yes, of course you do, you are as sick of hearing it as I am.

Well, that’s not actually what wimminz think… oh no…

The secret, that must be kept secret at all costs, which must never be spoken, but which keeps whispering to the old hamster wheel, thing that wimminz think to and of themselves is…

I am a totally worthless slut, good for fucking, maybe, and nobody who was worth anything would have anything to do with me.

There, that’s it, and I guarantee that for 99.9% of wimminz this is the absolute truth, and this is at the core of their being, they are either trying to run away from it, or trying to prove it to you, personal like…

For my sins I spent some time living in a popular holiday destination, every week the planes would disgorge the new lot of bleaters and take away the old lot, and every week there was a percentage of those who were not on a two week holiday, but had just sort of gone off to “find themselves”

A small proportion of them would turn up at the bar, and I would always ask them the same question, what are you running away from? yourself perhaps? It broke through the forced jollity and was a quick way to cut to the chase, is she going to spread em for me or not.

You know, looking back, my ex wife was the same, that marriage would have lasted a lot longer and she’d have been a lot happier if I had beaten her regularly and taken her out to gang-bangs, like all wimminz, she had “a story” that hints at the truth above, back when she was a teenager and living at home with her miserable Victorian dad and downtrodden mum, and some guy does the traditional and asks her dad if he can marry the bitch, and daddy says “Why would you want to marry her?”

Which is in fact a perfectly reasonable question, what are your intentions, why would you wish to marry my daughter? But of course she took it as a personal insult, what do you want with this piece of dog-shit?

If you live long enough, on incredibly rare occasions, you’ll hear a wimminz give voice to this inner demon, in vino veritas or whatever, but there will just be you and her, no witnesses.

Of course the greatest possible distance any wimminz can put between this truth and her day to day life is to act like she has the money of Jackie Onassis and the looks of a young Bardot, and who the fuck are you to think you have a shot at the hallowed labia?

But alpha fucks and beta bucks right, well, not when it is the canary in the economic and social coal mine, and it is.

I’ll admit I missed this, but all the billionaire werewolf porn chicklit stuff was the writing on the wall, Dennis Hopper had a line about the 80’s were going to make the 70’s look like the 60’s, but it is going mainstream, the female students at the local university and signing up en masse for sugar daddy websites “to help pay the bills” and the chicks on the swinging and fucking sites are all hosting “parties” where you have to pay to play, but it ain’t prostitution, oh no, because you aren’t *guaranteed* a fuck.. no…

Actually having money or the ability to support the bitch no longer counts, because they have sussed out that we have them sussed out, and that shit is a tap that can get cut off with no warning, it’s not THEIR money see, they don’t want access to your money, they want their own money.

I think this is also behind the recent upsurge in every celebrity with any money being accused of historical rape.

I do see a lot of wimminz suddenly getting serious about getting qualifications that will get them a job that pays better and with a better future than stacking shelves.

Even if you are living relatively fat off the State tit, a life in the gutter is a lot more credible to someone who thinks of themselves as written in red above, especially when it is hard to open a MSM article without seeing something about state benefit cuts and banks and ATM’s not working with increasing regularity and the economy generally heading to the shitter.

 

January 28, 2014

Living on a prayer

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 8:12 pm

I see lots of people who proclaim they are looking forwards to the reset.

There is an old saying, “Paybacks are a bitch”, and the meaning was they were a bitch for BOTH parties, so sure, in a reset you may well get a wimminz offering you herself and both her hot teenage daughters in a kinky as anything you can imagine foursome, in exchange for shelter for the night and a 99c hamburger each.. but…

But, you yourself will be no saint when times get that hard, why pay 99c for something you can take for free, and if you can take it, so can anyone else, from you too.

Prepper? Buddy, the only bullets that count are the ones you are actually carrying on you, AND, that you can send downrange accurately.

Short of these sorts of “full” reset, things still aren’t pleasant, the Weimar Republic, the collapse of the Soviet Union, these things all look one way from a distance, from afar, from the uninvolved, but for those personally going through it, deeply unpleasant.

There is a meme going around in the manosphere, where a guy in his late thirties says to a wimminz in her late thirties “bitch, you didn’t want me when I was 18, I don’t fucking want you now you’re 38”

If there *is* a fucking reset, you’ll need guys like me (tradesmen with physical trade skills and trade experience) to keep you all alive, and I mean that literally, and frankly, our attitude is going to be the same as the guy above to the cock carousel rodeo imminent wall impact 38 year old skank ho…. so your *reset* is going to stagger, as indeed it did in Russia, sure, many of the tradespeople “turned up” for work even though they hadn’t been paid in cash by their employers for months or years, but they ate at work and so on and mainly they didn’t bust their asses… so it was a survival strategy, not a charitable act.

“let’s re-negotiate the deal that I offered you previously….”

See, this is a truism in human nature, unless you have personally atoned for and learned *sufficient* contrition for your acts, you will do those same acts again, absolute certainty. Trust me on that.

Unless the personal “cost” to you of said acts of contrition and atonement *significantly* exceed both the cost and opportunity cost of whatever it was you did that sucked, then the contrition ain’t sufficient.

YOU have to find your actions more revolting than I do.

YOU won’t, as long as you have freedom to choose otherwise, if you were any different, you wouldn’t have acted in these ways.

You cannot “learn your lesson” and still be the same person, the lesson changes you, or it was not learned… end of.

So if there is a *reset* it isn’t the case that all the men who have had their hands burnt get their chance to get even, and start having kinky foursome sex with skank ho mommy and her twin daughters in exchange for a 99c burger, because the men too will be in a different headspace, if we are playing at the struggle for survival scenario then the 99c burger will be more attractive to you than the 4some with ms skank and her twin mini skanks, plus, and this really is crucial and sets the men apart from the boys who will soon be dead, that is 3 to 1 odds against you… they *will* be able to take you down, and no you *won’t* be expecting it, because if you were, you would not have permitted 3 skanks inside your innermost defensive perimeter (you naked and chilling) in the first fucking place.

One of my favourite sayings is “The difference between theory and reality is greater in reality than in theory” and it is particularly true in this case.

I can speak with some experience when I say to the skank ho’s, one of the very last things I will want from you, or that you will be able to offer me, is the use of your cunt. When that is all you have to offer, you are as good as dead.

When I say lets sit down and re-negotiate the deal I offered previously, I do NOT mean I am even more dom and you are even more sub, oh, and your daughter gets thrown in to the pot too.

What I mean is IN ADDITION to the sexual stuff which was part of the initial offer, which is now put aside a bit, tell me about your ability to knit, darn, sew, cook and prepare from scratch, do laundry by hand, scrub floors by hand, scavenge, not attract trouble, stay healthy and active, fetch and carry.

And for my part, in exchange for all this additional shit, I am now offering a lot less than I was previously.

Hey AfOR, you’re such an asshole, you’ll never make a sale…

…and….?

You’re assuming I need to.

I do not *NEED* to enter into any arrangement with any wimminz that does not show me being ahead on the deal, and that is now…  if there is a partial or full reset, I will be even more mercenary about it, not less, because frankly I won’t be ABLE to be as relaxed about shit as I am now, it will be survival time, remember…..

Nobody in an economic crash sits there drooling over a triple black barracuda with a big block 454, what happened to the bluesmobile, I traded it for a microphone.

Honda C90 now, that’s an object of desire.

And that’s the point, really, the theory and reality thing, if there is a full reset, the Honda C90 is worth more than your 454 and your wife and your twin daughters and your rolex and your own fucking life come to that.

I can manhandle a C90 over any obstruction too big to ride over, it’s tough and reliable, it’s quiet, and I can carry enough fuel in a rucksack to drive it 200 miles, on metalled roads I can strap two jerrycans of fuel to it and travel 1,000 miles at 30 mph.

This guy isn’t me, but he is local, and proof that some of the younger ones still do the same shit we did. He may not know it, but he is learning invaluable life survival lessons.

« Newer Posts — Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: