Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

December 9, 2013

well sheeeit…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:51 pm

You see, while it may be true that there are more dyed in the wool red pillers who have been through the mill of the wimminz more than me…  the-frog-and-the-scorpion-metaphor-for-big-government-statists

It is also true that despite this vast experience, I have never quite managed to completely throw off the feeling of WTF when I see wimminz number 45,654,837 exhibiting exactly the same characteristics as all those that went before.

It is not so much that I have problems learning the lesson, more that I have problems accepting that the wimminz will never either learn the lesson or evolve into something more honourable than pond scum.

It is, in short, a never ending source of awe and wonder for me.

Will these worthless cunts truly never learn, will they truly, to the last one, charge at full speed like lemmings into the wall and rebound into the catfood aisle?

Which begs the question, if a dyed in the wool red piller like me has problems truly accepting and internalising it to the point where there is no longer any shadow of WTF at yet another bug trying to fly through the windscreen at 70 mph, how the fuck are the young guys and blue pillers supposed to cope?

Fact is we can’t expect it, we can only hope for the best, while watching the slow motion train wreck, which pretty much depends on young guys NOT getting it until they have been bitten by several scorpions…. it is a fucking harsh reality.

Harsh realities are becoming my speciality lately, fuck it, if Albert E could do them, I think I am entitled.EINSTEIN-ANTI-SEMITISM-QUOTE

I was chatting to a skanky ex last night, somehow we got onto the subject of me meeting Mrs Right…. I told her…

What you wimminz never appear to get, it’s like this, some wimminz sits down at the table and I have to tell her, before she opens her mouth, I have met and known hundreds of wimminz before her, and ultimately they all stung the frog, so the fact is there is sweet fuck all that she can say to me that I have not heard before, so what does that leave as options?

She simply didn’t get it, her only answer is NAWALT, which is exactly what I just said doesn’t fucking exist, or if it does, I have never seen any sign of it, which is the same thing, pink elephant.

*I* didn’t fuck it up for this latest wimminz to sit down at the table, all her sistahs did, and judging solely by my experience to date, they didn’t fuck it up for her either, cos she is just the fucking same.

Tell me why I should take ownership of, or responsibility for, this problem.

Lovely mental image from something posted on another forum.

Your cunt is not a fucking clown car.

I’ll level with you, just for the sake of experimentation, more than fucking once, I have had something steady going where the skank promises me everything, including eternal fidelity and obedience and loyalty, and it’s been OK, and I get this nagging itch, and so I say, just once, “I love you”

Of course I don’t, fact is I don’t even think I know what love is anymore, it’s just three words and eight letters, devoid of meaning.

But, every fucking time I have done it that “relationshit” has self destructed within 7 days, and I have gone from a wimminz who pledged everlasting loyalty and obedience to a wimminz who wouldn’t even respond to a text, blanked, dead, I fell off the face of the earth.

Hello Mr Frog, meet Miss Scorpion.amazon-speed-gun

There is literally no limit to the disparity between what a wimminz will say to you one week, and how she will act the next or previous week in real life, it is beyond fucking bizarre.

How do you convince a young guy that literally every sound that will ever come out of a wimminz mouth, without exception, will sooner or later be proven to have little or no connection to reality.

Actually this also applies to literally every word that ever comes from a wimminz hand too.

So what do you do with scorpions when you are a frog?

Pretty much the only thing you can do that will work is make them property with literally zero rights, but there is fuck all chance of that this side of a total collapse because there is always some niggerz cunt all too willing and eager to drink the wimminz kool aid and listen to what they say, and promise…

Then there is the problem of scorpions playing dress up s frogs, and other frogs trying to make cozy with scorpions, so pretty much all you can ever do is only ever go swimming across that river alone, no exceptions, don’t even go near other frogs.

Now here is a nugget of pure gold and pure truth.

Tell a wimminz about Aesop‘s tale of the Frog and the Scorpion, and what does she see?

It ain’t what YOU see asshole.

She sees two things.

  1. A scorpion who did not die alone
  2. A frog who did not have the chance to go near any other scorpions ever again.

I shit you not.

Why are you acting all surprised, this is EXACTLY in line with how wimminz act in family court when it comes to custody and contact between the kids and the father.

It’s a bit like taking some green recruit fresh out of boot camp and airdropping the poor bastard in the middle of afdiggastan, amongst people who have spent generations growing up and living in circumstances that make boot camp look like all expenses paid disneyland and free hookers too.

Telling him he is hot shit is enemy action.

 

 

Neldon Mandela welder

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 1:03 pm

welding

Father with no rights

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 2:36 am

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2520410/Father-rights-Mother-stops-seeing-daughter-12-YEARS–despite-82-court-orders-demanding-down.html

20% of Broken Roads

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:33 am

I’m currently about 20% through Broken Roads (hat tip to DMJ) and I’m minded to write something.

Let me say this first of all.

Any ass-hole can find fault, being a critic is easy, lot easier than being a writer, and writers often of necessity have to employ things like artistic licence as a vehicle, if they strive for pin point accuracy it can kill the story stone dead before they start.

Star wars and just about everything else fucking piss me off because you have spacecraft performing AERODYNAMIC maneouvers in a vacuum, that shit is unforgivable, the writers need to be taken out back and fucked and dried.

Broken Roads you can tell, even 20% in, that the writer has fired a weapon, and been around what the yanks call a wrench / mechanic.

So I’m wondering, is it mere artistic licence and a vehicle for the story, or is it exactly what Rexx is talking about, that gives rise to the things I think when I read it, please bear in mind the following….

My father before me was an Engineer, like me, but a hundred times better than me, his era, he had a steam and electric ticket, otto diesel was still around, but dad’s first truck was a steam truck, made by Dennis.

95% of what I learned, I learned from my dad, so I learned how things were when HE was a boy apprentice, and later how the did things during the war, and in the jungles of the far east shortly thereafter….

Now, you can make acetylene easy enough, that’s just chemistry, but compressing and getting it into a bottle (not an empty one, but a bottle filled with a porous solid like a sponge) at high pressure is a completely new ball game, y’all try feeding a three stage diving compressor with acetylene and not air sometime, I’ll be the guy watching from 2,000 yards away through the fucking telescope…. but post apocalyptic Rexx grabbing a gas axe? (oxy acetylene torch) 40+ years after the breakdown…

The protagonist riding around on a motorcycle? Grease in a sealed tub might last 40 years, lube oil won’t, and that shit is harder to make than gasoline, many a time my old man told me the two great advances since he was a boy were pneumatic tyre technology and lube technology, the metals and engineering they had, but those two, no way.

Something no fucker talks about now, Brake Mean Effective Pressure, back in dad’s day they’d run a tuned side-valve engine at maybe 6:1 compression ratio, often 2/3rd of that, they had 100 octane gas and sub thou engineering and great steels, but no lube good enough.. if they had lube good enough, no way to get that power down as the tyres weren’t good enough.. this shit is hard limit stuff.

Gasifiers and steam power and sidevalve shit, the main protagonist might have been able to get a Model J Harley running, it was appropriate tech, the US Army used them to try and chase down Pancho Villa in real life, but what sounds like a 4 cyl jap bike with 12mm spark plugs?

Like I said, any asshole can be a critic, maybe DMJ knew all this but needed to write it his way to make the story work, and tell the story he wanted to tell, and not the story of the incredible technical challenges the real protagonists would face 40 years after the apocalypse.

So, this isn’t an appraisal of DMJ as an author, or Broken Roads as a book, rather it is about something that reading the book made me think, something that is in-line with what I have read so far.

That is that if you found yourself in that world, in reality, you would find that the reality as described in the book is a fucking fairy tale land of plenty and abundance and ease, from a purely engineering / technical POV.

I have seen with my own eyes a hand made arc welder, made in the 1990’s in africa, I have a picture somewhere, you can smelt copper and hammer it flat, but insulating it…. if you have high quality industrial weaving kit and cotton you can weave an insulator, I can remember this as a child, if you don’t, as these african’s didn’t, you hammered thin wall copper pipe flat, used hammered iron bed frame and leaf spring for the cores, and wrapped the hammered copper around the cores, using fucking paper from magazines for an insulator, an old set of jump leads worked both as the high current side and as the torch, and THEY STILL NEEDED INDUSTRIAL MADE AND COATED WELDING RODS.

This shit is orders of magnitude harder to do than anyone realises, this sounds easy, but it depends on that, and that depends on the other, and the other depends on something else, and you need all that shit in an unbroken line before you can do this…

I used to run a single cylinder static lister diesel generator, it would run on diesel, or lube oil, or ATF, and this 1.4 litre displacement single cylinder engine would produce a whopping 6 bhp @ 650 rpm, each of the twin external flywheels weighed around 300 lbs….. I personally wouldn’t even consider anything more technologically advanced or high tech or with a greater power to weight ratio for a Broken Roads scenario, we are literally talking steam power.

Similarly, 40 years after the apocalypse, my money is on the only kind of rifle the main protagonist would be able to run would be a muzzle loading flintlock, flint, black powder and lead you can do, and again, with low barrel pressures you can cast or wrap a barrel, there is a huge correlation between being able to make an engine barrel that will handle 200 psi peak pressures and a gun barrel that will do the same, to scale…. hell, the logo of BSA motorcycles until they folded was crossed rifles, Birmingham Small Arms…

But making brass, smokeless powder, and especially percussion caps… fucking hard stuff to do… so is making a rifled barrel

First you need a lathe….

But you couldn’t make that shit unless you have access to a fucking good blacksmith, and a metalsmith, and a gear cutter, all separate trades and skills, and they in turn depend on miners and smelters, brickies to make the kiln, it goes on and on, maybe when your community gets to 50,000 inhabitants you’ll have enough supporting trades and such to start making crude rifle barrels and steam engines and early internal combustion engines, Harley J stuff, assuming you have the fucking plans, and the measuring tools, and so on.

In a sense, though I am only 20% of the way into Broken Roads, I sense that this is at least one thread of the narrative that DMJ is telling a story about, our ignorance of our dependence on technology.

If he is, I find myself wondering, in 1978 the BBC did an excellent 10 part documentary series, narrated by James Burke, it was called Connections, and delved into this very subject, back in the days before TV was dumbed down into x-fuckedher I’m a celebutard.

Maybe you should all watch it.

Maybe you should download it, while you still can, in a post apocalyptic world a hand cranked charger would power a laptop and allow you to view it, and marvel at the moving pictures.

Here is episode 1

December 8, 2013

The rigger told the court his wife’s allegation of rape had wrecked his life

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 7:12 pm

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2520288/North-Sea-oil-worker-beat-cheating-wife-finding-photo-posing-underwear-bought-lover.html

December 7, 2013

The Necromoronicon

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:43 pm

As Peter Cook said, jokingly, wtf made anyone think whales were intelligent, when was the last time a whale produced a top 10 song.

It got me thinking, or what passes for thinking, about that which must never be mentioned by name… *s*n*t… and in particular alt.binaries.e-books

So, just for shits and giggles, I set newsleecher to download everything from the “dailies” for the last few days, which queued up a total of just over 2,000 e-books.

Once downloaded and imported into Calibre, it was time to clean up the dupes, a few of these were mirror dupes, mainly they were the same book in different formats, anyway, when done, 1,331 unique titles left.

Now go through and select every title with a wimminz author, calibre pops up the book cover so even if the title doesn’t give the content away the cover does, click remove from library.

Down to 358 books

Go through them and see from the cover which ones are clearly written by wimminz using androgynous nom’s de plume, or men’s names, delete

161 books left

delete all the warhammer and star trek crap

122 books left

Nota Bene, these are just BROAD filters, exclusion filters, excluding only wimminz authors, and 100% of their output in fantasy sex shit, utterly opposite from an inclusion filter, such as sci-fi only, ignore everything else.

In this 122 books there is a fairly broad range, tom clancy, feynmann, a little sci fi, a couple of westerns, a couple of crime/detective ones.

But the point is from my random sample of some 2,200+ titles, we are down to 122, which represents about one half of one per cent.

eg 99.5% is chick lit crap.

Now, I’m a reader, not a writer, but let’s take DMJ’s book.

I have not read his book. No particular reason, it falls into the cluster of things I do read, so why haven’t, why, so far, has Broken Roads been that one thing NO retailer can track, the sale that was not made, the lost sale? At least as far as me as a unique potential customer goes.

Number one is I dislike the price disparity, 11 bucks for a hardcopy paperback that is printed and bound and packed and shipped and lands at my door, but 7 bucks for an electronic version that DMJ could have produced himself with Calibre, and yes I understand the vast marketing reach of amazon and resellers margins, but really? 7 fucking bucks for something that has a unit cost of maybe 0.5 cents to process and deliver electronically?

Is DMJ getting the lion’s share of this 7 bucks? I doubt it.

Is the 7/11 bucks ebook/hardcopy price break indicative, eg it costs 0.5 cents to produce and distribute an ebook, and 4 bucks to produce and distribute a paperback? I doubt it.

Number two, again, speaking personally, I got no use for poxy proprietary file formats, nowt wrong with epub, Amazon can kiss my ass with their kindle lock-in, I will either read a ebook with Calibre on my main PC or Moon reader on my Samsung Note 10.1.

Number three, I have nothing against paying for shit that I consume, you can tell from the above that I know how to get pirate copies of anything I want, and yet my PC and Android devices are littered with software and apps and data that I have paid for.

The stuff I have NOT paid for is simply because either;

  1. the pirated shit simply worked better than the paid for shit
  2. the shit itself is worth max maybe 1% of what the seller is demanding
  3. I already paid for that shit five times over (eg music) and to this day you don’t offer that shit to me in a format I want to use
  4. I just wanted to look and play, not keep and use, but you don’t offer a working demo
  5. while I am happy to pay for the shit itself, your insistence that you will bundle it with a bunch of shit I do not want and not give me any option about installing it without that other shit made it a no sale
  6. I’m not prepared to buy your other proprietary device or service (kindle / xbox / ps4) just so I can use this shit.

But I cannot enter into any form of negotiations with you that I could if I was dealing with you face to face over a shop counter, not because electronic trading forbids such things, but because you simply are not interested in selling anything to anyone who does not want it your way, up the ass.

Number four, market dilution, see the above where >99.5% of literary output is wimminz writing shit that frankly, if I tore the pages out and wiped my ass with them, I’d have more shit on my ass than when I started… the ONLY way I know of DMJ’s book is because *******I******* fucking found him and it in my browsing and clicking, so tell me, why should I give one red fucking cent to your marketing machine Amazon? Why should DMJ, for such a putative sale?

In fact, it is the likes of Amazon and the other publishers who diluted the fucking market in the first fucking place…. I should be able to walk into a high street bookshop and ask where the science fiction section is, and when I get there I should be able to find the hard science fiction section…. good luck with that.

If I have to trip over piles of 50 shades on the way in the shop I am not fucking going in.

I don’t mind paying DMJ to read his shit, to me it is the same as buying some beers for the guy jamming down the pub or telling a story over a fire.

I don’t see why I should have to pay Amazon for something they have not done, marketing, as far as my individual potential purchase is concerned.

That is like being in the pub anyway because you were wandering down the street and fancied a pint and spotted a likely looking watering hole, so you walk in and there is this guy jamming with a guitar, and you go up to the barman to get a drink and maybe listen to the guitar guy to see if he is any good, and some cunt in a bow tie walks up and gets in your face and demands a 5 buck entry fee before I can hear any notes guitar guy plays, hey, bow tie cunt says, I’m his fucking agent, I promote his act, fucking pay me.

end of numbers

This ain’t about DMJ or his book, this is about media, distribution, business models, etc etc etc.

When the unit cost of publishing a single book from a single author is measured in cents, or fractions of a cent, and you seek to make money by making trillions of such micro transactions, that what fucks shit up.

It was EXACTLY the same in the early days of the internet, it used to take money and effort to get online, and sure you didn’t like everything you found, but you didn’t find crap because nobody had the resources to upload crap… even when it started to take off as enough of a mainstream thing that there was now a world wide web and a web browser, and therefore potential viewers, you spent a ***LOT*** of fucking time ensuring that NO page on the website was over 50 kilobytes, and the front page better be less than 25 kilobytes, and this was for EVERYTHING, including graphics, check everything for load times over a 9.6 or 11k modem connection, and load processes, ALL the text better load first, while the gfx downloaded line by line as the images appeared like a slowly lowered blind.

The came Assholes On Line and (in the UK) Freeserve, no more cost per minute for the modem connection, and just like the chick lit, it turned to crap, world + dog had websites, contents of my desk drawer in puke technicolor and BLINK and all 230 web safe colours.

It just devalued and buried everything else.

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

we live in a world where you decide to buy a coffee, si you go to starbucks / costa / wtf and who cares it all tastes like shit and the fucking cardboard cup is literally a greater cost to the shop than the coffee / milk / electric to make it.

you know how much the cost is of the chicken in a mcfuckits? 6p per portion, that’s about 10c american, eg it is the cheapest ingredient

you know what the so-called managers in high street retail food chain shops (I mean restaurants here, not walmart) spend most of their time doing? juggling staff and rotas to achieve the industry target of making wages never exceed 40% of the TOTAL costs of that particular outlet.

all of the above are factual by the way, so, back to tracking the sale that was not made for DMJ’s book, in my particular individual case, I’ll buy that fucker when TRUE values are represented, eg Amazon treats it like a loss leader, and go “Hey DMJ, we just sold another copy of your book to some guy called AfOR, here is the 5 bucks he gave us, and here is 6 bucks from us, making a total of 11 bucks for you.”

Maybe then I won’t have to download 1,000 books to find 50 that I might possibly read, it’ll be like publishing used to be, you know, in the bad old days when you walked into a bookshop and found it full of Petersen how to books and the latest Larry Niven and Clarke and Dictionaries and Thesaurus and maybe even a Gazetteer or two.

Music is already there, so is video, only video I watch now is fly on the wall shit.

Turn your speakers up. And the sub-bass… To 11

Related articles

December 6, 2013

Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 9:09 pm

Pinky just got kicked to the kerb, FoffI was supposed to be going there to bone it tonight, but despite the lack of a hamster wheel there was no lack of the usual wimminz fare of say one thing, do another, and frankly my life is too short, no matter how good and kinky the sex was, so kerb time it is.

So… sitting here having just discussed it with a couple of the lads down the pub. Nothing of value was lost, because there was nothing of value there anyway, if there was, she would not have said one thing and done another… QED

So… further to a comment one of them made, it’s all about the feelings, and channelling Derek & Clive, you got to have fucking intuition mate, and channelling AfOR (because you almost certainly DO have fucking intuition mate), you got to fucking listen to it.

I had *that* feeling last night, that hard to describe feeling, that combination of being kept in the dark and fed on shit, and knowing something ain’t right, and wondering why you’re the last one at the party to get the joke.

Ask me to explain it, or justify it, or back it up… and I can’t, I can’t give you anything except I had that feeling, and knew it was significant, and recollected other times I had had that feeling.

It’s not a feeling that just applies to your dealings with wimminz…

This guy

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2518874/Father-receives-photo-XBox-One-duped-Ebay.html

He had that feeling, in his own words.. “It came in a brown envelope. When the postman gave it to me I kept asking him if he was sure this package was for me and he kept saying it was.”  he KNEW…

Like I said, justification, explanation, supporting evidence, I can’t give you any of that shit when I get that feeling, all I can tell you is I have that feeling, and that feeling has ALWAYS BEEN FUCKING RIGHT.

A guy asks you “do you think my wife is cheating on me?“.. he already knows the fucking answer, he has that feeling.

Thing is, Pinky that just got kicked to the kerb, she could no more adequately explain her actions and choices than I could explain the feeling, I do not mean I will never know what went on in her head, I mean even if I had a nanosecond by nanosecond replay of whatever did go on in her head, I would be none the wiser… observing the process in her head is as much use as observing the feeling in me.

None.

Every guy I have ever met who gets that feeling starts playing what if scenarios in their heads, looking for an answer or explanation or enlightenment, they will never get it, that urge to look for answers is the “dark side” of that feeling.

If I had listened to the dark side I’d have gone to her place as planned, and maybe been greeted by plod, maybe been greeted by darkness and locked doors, maybe been greeted by who knows what, the dark side of that feeling wants knowledge, explanations, answers, understanding.

With experience, you get like me..

As DMJ says in a current piece, I get that feeling, I go snake eyes, people do what they wanna do, if da bitch wanted me to know where I stood or what the fuck was going on, nothing would have stopped her from making sure I knew… NOTHING…

The very fact that I did not know is the feeling, is the reality, do not be attracted by the dark side Luke, come over here to the light side, go snake eyes with me, turn that car around, drive home, edit your contacts on the phone to move the skank from “current” to “skanks” + “blocked“, turn your back, walk away, she is literally dead to me.

There is no animosity, there is no hate, there is no desire, there is no wanting to know, there is nothing, there is only memory, fun while it lasted.

Past tense.

Move on, chilled, take the opportunity to do something you want, play Skyrim, go down the pub for a pint, walk the dog, anything, as long as you are snake eyes.

Snake eyes, stopped me going to her door, stopped a possible altercation, stopped possible po-lice involvement, stopped me continuing to feel that (unpleasant) feeling, stopped me giving a fuck, stopped me seeing her as anything except past tense.

No good EVER comes from ignoring snake eyes and going to the dark side and embracing that feeling, none, ever, not ever.

DMJ’s article was spot on, snake eyes != (is NOT equal to) Mr Nice Guy

Mr Nice Guy gets fucked over and loses, every time, BECAUSE he is trying to be Mr Nice Guy.

As I discussed elsewhere here, when I was arrested for my alleged FRA from the psycho skank ho ex, the initial reaction was to convince the po-lice that I could not have raped the bitch because I am a nice guy and rape is alien to me, the fact that I didn’t rape the bitch is irrelevant, I wanted the po-lice to SEE that I didn’t, and the only way to prove a negative is to try to make the other guy like you, and to do that you WILL lie…. you will, for example, deny any sex happened, and the DNA will prove you lied about that, and at that point you’re left with admitting you lied about the sex, but maintain you never raped anyone… good fucking luck with that.

Despite the fact that the FACTS are that early this week Pinky wants to spend the rest of her life with me, *some* fucking thing happened while I was 200 miles away, I dunno what and I never will, all I know is I had that feeling and next thing I know I am being blanked.

*IF* I had been dumb-ass Mr nice Guy enough to turn up at her door, and *IF* plod were there, there is no possible thing that I can say to them that will do me any good whatsoever.

Snake eyes, now the FACTS (verifiable by GPS and extensive digital records of texts etc etc etc) are that early this week I was there and everything was perfect, and I ain’t been within 50 miles of there since, and when whatever it was happened in the last 24 hours happened, I still did not go there, and I will never go there again, or attempt to contact her again.

Bottom line, I may well get “that feeling” again, but it won’t be Pinky behind it.

The last ship on that route already sailed.

If I get that feeling again, even if I get it 1,000 times, it will be 1,000 different causes / people, and in 1,000 cases snake eyes will kick in, and in 1,000 cases within 24 hours it will be ancient history… that is a scab I will ***NEVER*** pick at again as long as I live, I just discard it like a lizard losing its tail…. or a turd I send off to the coast with a flush.

Related articles

Pinky2

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:57 pm

Having had a lot or correspondence from guys worried that the pink and the brain thing was a sign of me getting cuntstruck, and thus focusing on some absence of negative aspects of a particular wimminz, and transmogrifying that into thinking there are many positive blue pill aspects to her.

Fear fucking not.

Was never on the cards, but in any event in my experience the moment you say something non-negative about a wimminz, you just made yourself a hostage to fortune and have between 24 and 72 hours before that one comes around and bits you on the ass.

As it was in this case, still no hamster wheel, but that didn’t negate the ability to pull another typical wimminz stunt and act one way while saying another.

I have the attitude nowadays that wimminz be 50 dollar cars, ride em till they crap out on you… sometimes you get one that seems like a real good buy and just keeps on driving, sometimes you comment about that, hey, this one is a diamond in the rough, doesn’t mean you think it is a new car with a no questions asked unlimited mileage parts and labour and loaner warranty.

I ride the tiger as and when I can, while the going is good.

Doesn’t mean I think kitty just got domesticated and would make a good house pet.

Just because I see theoretical potential in some skank, doesn’t mean I buy into it or have forgotten that if wishes were horses nobody would walk.

Yeah, I’d fucking *love* it if it were not so, but it is, and one thing I do know is that there is sweet fuck all that I personally can do to change it.

Just sayin’…

 

December 5, 2013

Eddie was a kind man who would never hurt anyone

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 12:31 pm

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-2518434/Why-MEN-victims-domestic-violence-Its-Britains-remaining-taboos-abuse-men-home-rise.html

Pinky + the Brain and AWALT

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:17 am

I have thought long and hard about this, because I have a unwritten rule that I don’t write anything uniquely identifiable about myself or others… also… I don’t write anything about those who don’t deserve it.

However.

If this friend reads this, forgive me, nobody else (but me) will know who you are, and I am not talking about you as a person, rather using you as an example of something greater.

I have a friend, they were in a car crash, suffered a head injury, and permanent brain damage. When I say brain damage I am not talking about drooling all day and having to wear adult nappies, I am talking about the brain no longer working as it used to, so think “stroke victim” rather than lobotomy patient.

This friend is female, and yes it is a relationshit friendship not a platonic social friendship, eg we fuck… and no, I’m not fucking a ‘tard, any more than a guy who is blind or lost a limb is somehow unable to consent as well and as fully as the able bodied brother he has.

AWALT, but, without invoking crap like “there is an exception to every rule” and such, what I do find is that the behaviours and responses I have come to know and learn and accept when dealing with wimminz, AWALT, frequently fail to manifest in this person, and interestingly, they fail to manifest coincidentally with manifestations of the brain injury.

The result is that I can have *proper* discussions with this person, I don’t have to watch what I say or how I say it, not that I do anyway, but the lack of the typical wimminz responses means that the conversation does not die then and there, communication continues.

Now, I’m not a stranger to people with TBI, but, in the past it has always been other guys, guys who fell off motorcycles, guys who stopped lead, guys who had accidents at work, but, not being a fag, there was a whole area, namely sex, that I never ventured in to… and in any event, guys ain’t wimminz…

This person is the first wimminz I have known with TBI, and of course there is a *vast* variety in outcomes and symptoms from TBI, so even if I met 999 others they would probably all be different, but, that doesn’t detract from the validity of this particular individual as an observation.

Thing is, I *very* strongly suspect that prior to her TBI, this is not a person I would have wasted any time on, classic strong empowered independent single mom stuff, but one of the classic symptoms of a TBI is trouble with memory, concentration, attention, or thinking, ain’t that they can’t do these things, is that doing these things is *hard* work and requires all their attention.

Result, someone who finds *all* thinking hard and exhausting work, and literally not enough thinking hours in the day to spend any of those mental CPU cycles on spinning up the hamster wheel… result, someone who despite being female, is generally pleasant to be around, and who doesn’t expect me to modify *my* behaviour in *any* way whatsoever, on the contrary, she knows she is brain damaged, and therefore VALUES my behaviour as a reference point, something to cherish, not something to alter.

To give an example, after fucking a regular AWALT wimminz, I may, sometimes, if the mood and the devil takes me, wipe my cock on her curtains, just to see that look on her face…. you know where I am coming from when I say this, I can hear you laughing.

So, I used the word “person” and not the word “wimminz” because it is so *unusual* to get a frown and a small smile and a verbal comment that isn’t really a complaint, it wasn’t taken as one of the male patriarchy disrespecting the pwincesses’ chamber and furnishings, it was taken as a guy being a guy, albeit a not very nice one, and the lack of “seeking conflict” that we would expect from AWALT wimminz (because conflict is also very hard work for her brain) has the result that I now wipe my cock on the duvet, which gets washed anyway, not the curtains, which probably don’t get washed more than 2 or 3 times a year normally.

Now, I don’t want you to get distracted with thoughts that within weeks you are going to see my proclaiming undying love and impending nuptials on this blog, and then she becomes editor in chief.

I’m just trying to highlight the fact that despite apparently being “brain damaged”, it is this very damage which has chronically limited her capacity to spin up the hamster wheel, and the end result is, for me, a somewhat unsettling deviation from the AWALT carrier that we are all used to.

Instead of, as I am used to, being told that she “can match me” or “is as good as me” or “I like a woman with spirit” etc, none of which are even remotely true, I’m presented with with someone who I only had to tell, once, when we first met and fucked, that (if I spend a night in bed with you) I like being woken up every day with a blow-job.

We *did* have a discussion about blow-jobs recently, because she has two styles, one which is intended to make the guy shoot his load, and one which is spending an hour or more just using her mouth and tongue to give sensual pleasure, and during this discussion, in which she indicated that if there were any preferences I had or improvements she could make I should tell her, she stated that she was hoping to maybe figure somewhere in the top 3 blow-job-ettes I had personally known, I went silent thinking about this, she didn’t do anything I expected, just said it’s obvious I’m not that good yet, I have to practice more.

WTF… why can’t all wimminz be like this…

I really, really, really want to stress the point that I don’t want y’all to be sidetracked by thoughts of AfOR walking some skank ho wimminz up the aisle while proclaiming eternal love and here is my wallet and here are my balls, or any of the other predictable shit.

The point is that in this particular case, this particular brain injury, the results have produced something that is by far the mildest case of an AWALT wimminz that I personally have encountered, by far the most *complementary* female I have encountered.

Is she perfect? FUCK NO!!!! She isn’t even good. She doesn’t have anything to offer, even she knows this and will say it.

She has the full compliment of AWALT skank ho check boxes ticked.

The point is, one tiny change, one tiny injury that makes thinking hard work, that makes no brain power left to run the hamster wheel, far from damaging or ruining this creature, it has made her more of a woman than any of her contemporaries, it has made her genuinely pleasant to hang out with, it has made her positive traits more pronounced while neutering the poison in her more negative traits, far from being a disability or an injury, it was a fine swiss finishing school, making the most of what actually was there, even if you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

Until meeting this person, I personally never realised just how huge a part the hamster wheel played in *all* aspects of wimminz’ make up, I thought it was just itself a product of some entitled bitches personality and attitude, take away the hamster wheel and she will still be an unpleasant poisonous bitch, that was how my thinking went.

But no, take away the hamster wheel, and she becomes much more like one of the guys, sure, he has flaws and issues, but mainly he never puts a nanosecond of effort into making his flaws and issues your problem, so you can hang out with the guy and have a good time, call each other ass-holes, mean it, laugh, hang out some more.

I think I am experiencing fag-world, without actually being a fag, I can hang out with something born with a cunt and tits, and fuck it, but without the hamster wheel, so it is as chilled as hanging out with the guys.

It all begs an interesting question, has modern technological civilisation freed up so much previously used female intellectual capacity, that said newly freed capacity, in true devil finds work for idle hands form, was used to spin up the hamster wheel and turn AWALT wimminz into pointless hateful worthless skank ho’s?

If so, if all male newborns are circumcised, then all female newborns should be lobotomised, they’d still prolly grow up to be skank ho’s, but maybe not so psycho, no hamster wheel… yeah yeah, tongue in cheek…

It does however raise an interesting question, and I am fully aware that I put myself firmly in Klaus Barbie territory by voicing it, that it *might* theoretically be possible to replicate, perhaps chemically, this person’s TBI, and see if it had the same effect in other wimminz, does making thinking *hard* work kill the hamster in the wheel?

If it does, then the dumbing down of society and idiocracy may not be such a bad thing, as far as peaceful intersexual relationships are concerned…. with the caveat that “dumb” wimminz still have enough mental ability to run a hamster wheel at a squillion RPM, the secret is making thinking hard work.

Dumb wimminz don’t need to think to survive.

We can thank big daddy guvvmint and the welfare state for that.

I suspect “zero” rights and benefits and protections would serve the equivalent of making thinking hard, you’d have to think constantly, which would be hard.

Because it’s seasonal…

 

« Newer Posts — Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: