February 26, 2013
February 16, 2013
Show me something new, for fuck’s sake
Depending where you go, you will get a lot of shit about fucking lots of different wimminz, just a PUA loser blah blah blah….
In a not too dissimilar vein, a guy who has worked 10 jobs a year for the last 10 years knows a damn sight more about companies and employment and hiring and so on than the guy who has worked one job.
If there is one thing banging lots of chicks teaches you it is that the range of their bullshit is as limited and unimaginative as the range of the HR departments in the 100 different companies in the other example above… cookie cutter bullshit.
No pwintheth, your cwithith ithn’t sthpethial just because it features you in the starring role.
Nor is it new, different, interesting, entertaining, cute, sexy, sassy or anything else.
There was a bar I knew years ago, I once ever had a drink there, just to be the only customer, I used to drink next door, which was packed to the rafters, the first place used to open at 10 am and close at 3 am, so open for 17 hours straight 7 days a week.
They played Fawlty Towers, non stop, back to back, nothing else, so while I quite liked Fawlty, you have to remember they only ever made twelve episodes, each running about half an hour… so about seven hours of programming, on a loop, 17 hours a day, 119 hours a week, I subconsciously learned more Fawlty script sitting next-door in the busy bar than I ever did actually watching the shit or re-reruns on telly.
Sit me down today and put Fawlty on and it leaves me stone cold dead, bored fucking shitless, yo had better be PAYING my fucking ass a per hour rate to sit here and watch this shit, and it better be a lot, and fuck it I don’t need the money kthxbye
Yeah I know pwinthethth, you think your shit and your drama and your ass is all new, it ain’t, it’s just another tired old re-run, heard it all before, seen it all before, trust me I wish you did have some new shit to pull, I might stick around just to see it, out of novelty value.
But no, it is the same old same old.
And *****THAT***** is why, when you decide that you are worth more than I am interested in giving you or taking from you, your passing bothers me just exactly about as much as the fact that I am not sat outside that bar listening to fucking fawlty fucking towers re-runs all day long.
Bitches complain that guys pester them and just won’t leave them alone and all that jazz, but when you actually do do the KTHXBYE and move on and never contact them again, what happens is they go through a whole range of entitled princess shit, waiting for you to text, can’t believe he ain’t gonna text, fuck me he really ain’t gonna text, god-DAMN he really really isn’t gonna text, and now I have left it waaaay to late to text him cos he’ll know etc etc etc
Meanwhile back in the real world of my life all the drama is as unique an interesting as the dialogue in Fawlty.. “is no rat, is hamster” ha-fucking-ha
No bitch, when I ask you what YOU have to offer ME, fawlty re-runs starring you as Sybil don’t cut it, but it’s all avoidance and same old same old subterfuge, because when it comes right down to it, and the question becomes what do YOU have to offer ME bitch, that’s the question they don’t want to acknowledge, because that particular piggy bank is quite empty, and always has been.
At that point they may try and emulate the little boy in the sweet shop with no money, all cute and maybe the shopkeeper will take pity, but what they are is the penniless hobo trying to gain admission to a good restaurant, it ain’t pretty.
One of my common refrains to wimminz who try to get a little close is “I will not accept less than you have previously given away for free” which is all very nice and logical, but it is very tough, because it is only a few very short steps from nice young virgin, to has had a cock in every hole at least once, to has had two, and before you know it there is fuck all new to offer me, and you sure as fucking shit better not even THINK about offering me less, because that is a personal insult, because that rates me a lower than these guys you gave it away for free to, and where are they now bitch?
Again, a common feature of all these scenarios is when the penny starts dropping miss motormouth bitch who could talk for hours without pausing or drawing breath suddenly sees words like she is shitting cactus plants, the smaller the better, the fewer the better.
you get 4 and 5 word sentences, and short words, not many letters, not many syllables.
yeah, you can walk away, but it bothers me as much as the penniless hobo who didn’t get in to my restaurant, I’m going to miss you as much as the turd I flushed down to the coast yesterday.
Welcome to the brave new world, where there is no more play before pay, where there is no more liar loan self certification, or promises to pay that are never cashed in.
In this brave new world we cut out all the shit before you even get to sit down at the negotiating table, because my business model isn’t hurt one iota if nobody ever sits at that negotiating table.
Universally, if they ever get to this point, wimminz will all say the same thing, they will say “WHAT DO YOU WANNA HEAR?” well bitch, I don’t wanna HEAR shit, I wanna SEE shit, we are so far beyond talk…. some, will be self aware enough to know they have nothing of value to offer you, and will struggle with that concept.
But get this, this is still the negotiation table, ALL we do at this table is negotiate, there is no guarantee of any kind of deal or sale, all we have been doing to date is ensuring that the two people sat at the negotiating table are dealing honestly, and whether or not a deal is done, no hard feelings either way.
What, the wimminz cry, MORE fucking hoops to jump through… so don’t jump bitch, walk your skanky ass outta here.
The kind of guy we are describing here… he is the fucking anti-christ to feminazis… so think of it like being mosquito repellent, and the mosquitoes trying the shaming language, dude, if you weren’t so smelly and dirty you’d be sooooooo much more attractive to us.
Just because something got through the mosquito repellent doesn’t mean you want it on your skin, but, and this is an important but, almost 99.999% of those things that you would not mind at all being on your skin will be repelled by a guy they see associating with mosquitoes.
Fucking fat skanky hoes is like riding a Honda 90, it’s better than walking but no other fucker ever better see you do it…. if you ever do it in public the hotter wimminz will avoid you like the fucking plague you are.
I’m not saying any of these bitches are prize material, but at least you can sit down at the negotiating table with them, which is more than you can say for mosquitoes…
It isn’t new, but it isn’t as old and tired as the same old same old re-run dreck all the other wimminz come out with, and brothers just because you can make this classification / separation, don’t even go anywhere near thinking you are on track to the elusive NAWALT filter…. it doesn’t fucking exist.
It isn’t new, but it does give you time to get on with your life, and not spend it swatting mossies, or worse still thinking they are butterflies and chasing after them with a net…
It isn’t new, but at least you can go to sleep at night knowing you haven’t played a part in maintaining the entitlement pwinthethth syndrome out there is la-la-land, which they hilariously call real life…
It isn’t new, but it does give you the time and patience to flick through some other wimminz channels, and see some other re-runs, some of which you have only seen a few times, perhaps few enough you have nothing better to do that watch this one once more, hell, it keeps your balls drained and your status in the world reaffirmed, that’s a good thing.
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February 14, 2013
February 12, 2013
Theresa Atkinson’s offer of a drink was turned down by victim David Short
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February 10, 2013
You don’t know jack shit
You don’t have to know Jack Shit, or any other MSM journo, you only have to trawl some of the *very* popular websites, to know that the MSM journo’s also read those sites, and it is with heartbeat regularity that you find stories that ran on one of these websites running three days later on a MSM channel / newspaper / broadcast.
These websites in question are not visited by mere thousands or mere tens of thousands of people, nor are the people who visit them basement dwelling lusers with small penises, nor do they all deal with world or warcraft shit.
What I am seeing more and more of, is serious speciality websites with millions of educated adult users, increasing going off the main topic which they were created for, and talking about something else, and the thing is, they are all talking about the same thing.
Look at this and this for two examples…. both from Zerohedge
There are waaay too many people talking about this stuff on a daily basis, and yet these are the very stories that the MSM does not copy and paste from these sites of website… coinkydink? I think not.
I participate in a swingers website, it is a useful tool to get free cunt, but even there shit like this is getting discussed…
One of the other topics getting discussed is the recent UK horse meat as beef scandal.
When I pointed out that Findus advertising 100% horse as 100% beef was no more dishonest that some skanky wimminz on the swinging site advertising 100% land whale as 100% BBW you can imagine the uproar, much of it from wimminz, but most of it from niggerz eager to white knight the wimminz.
Which brings me to a point that I have raised many times on swingers and dating sites, truth in advertising.
Much like using the word “cunt” at every opportunity is a great litmus test for wimminz and niggerz, using the word “advert” at every opportunity instead of “profile” seems to have the same effect on dating and swingers sites.
By any rational empirical test you can care to name, my PoF profile and swingers profile are adverts, nothing more and nothing less.
There is *some* validity to an argument that on Fuckbook and Linkedluser et al these things can equally be described as profiles, but on the other hand even there you can’t actually exclude advertising generally and self promotion specifically from them.
Is an iPhone a “high PROFILE brand” or a highly promoted brand or a highly advertised brand, or are all three just different ways of saying the same thing?
Certainly, it is easier to argue the point that the land whale entitlement pwincess persona projected on a PROFILE is more acceptable than if you called that self same page an ADVERT.
And this touches nicely on the answer that ALWAYS comes up whenever you try to discuss things like “What is a BBW?” on these sites, because you don’t have to wait long for some bitch to come along and provide the definition that “If she says she feels like a BBW then she is one”
That’s great, I feel like Ravishing Rick Rude therefore I are one… form an orderly queue bitchez.
Personally I always thought ricky rood looked like an even more faggy cross between Tom Sellick and Burt Reynolds, were such a thing possible, but if I decide that I feel like RR, then I am one, according to the wimminz fruity logic.
(naturally such fruity logic is a one way street, only applies to wimminz when dealing with niggerz)
So, why is there this huge unspoken desire to call an swingers / dating advert a “profile”?
Well, it’s self delusion really, and given such levels of self delusion on an individual level it really is no wonder that the powers that be, as featured in stories such as those two from ZH linked above take the attitude that since we as individuals love bullshit so much, we should be force fed bullshit at every opportunity.
Who needs an actual SMV (sexual market value) when you can haz a “seasonally adjusted” SMV…
If you called the profile an advert, people would find it a LOT harder and more uncomfortable to write their own… for the wimminz the first adverse reaction is in 99% of the cases the same, “I don’t like it because it feels like I am selling myself” is what they say.
They usually stop talking to me altogether when I point out “baby, nobody is charging on PoF, so you’re not selling yourself, you are GIVING it away”
Contrary to popular belief, wimminz don’t have a problem selling access to their cunt, what they have a problem with is being faced with the reality that they will be advertising access to their cunt, with a big “FREE!” sign over it, and STILL not get trampled to death by swinging dick.
Nothing worse than advertising a product you can’t even fucking give away for free.
Which is contrarily why a lot of wimminz also do the whole escorting whoring thing, alongside the swinging site advert and the PoF advert, this gives extra avenues of self denial and bullshit;
Slice a cat’s throat and put a $10 sign on it and when no man can be found to fuck it all you have to do is say “They couldn’t afford my pussy”
I’m with Wilde on the whole whoring thing BTW, he asks a woman at a party if she will sleep with him for 1,000 Guineas, she says why of course Mr Wilde, he walks away and comes back to her an hour later and asks her if she will sleep with him for 1 Guinea, she says why Mr Wilde, what do you take me for, a whore? He says madam, we have already settled that, now we are just arguing about the price.
So I’m banging my young cum bucket slut earlier this weekend and her phone goes, her slutty mate, she has been offered £750 quid to fuck this fat old fuck all next weekend in her own home, of course she is going to do it, so I tell my slut to tell her I will fuck her for a pound, it doesn’t go down well, but after all we are just arguing about the price.
Come next year this story will have transformed until she was earning £1,000 a pop as an escort, and that’s just for one night, and the client was ricky rude, and they stayed in the Savoy and drank champagne and ate truffles.
February 9, 2013
if the roles / sexes were reversed..
and a man cut a baby girl’s labia off and the kid died, would we even have to ask what would happem
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February 7, 2013
February 4, 2013
BBW – Blatantly Bullshitting Wimminz
While I am the first to admit to, and complain of, the sort of drop down list or radio button choices presented on many websites, thinking personally that none of the available options are correct, and then choosing the least wrong one… there are limits…
So for example being in my fifties I can no longer claim to be “athletic”, on the other hand I could still get into the trousers I wore at 16 as my waistline has not changes, so “slim” it is, even though I don’t consider myself slim, but the next one up, average, isn’t for me either, I only have to look out the window to confirm this.
Back in the seventies a D cup was a fairly big tit, and even then everyone, men and women alike, knew that cup size = tit size, so a 36-24-36 C cup and a 36-24-36 B cup were notably different.
But then whatever happened, put it down to processed foods, sedentary lifestyles, cosmetics and lotions and pills, whatever you like, body sizes have been growing, and with them tit sizes.
Late last year I was with a chick for a while, she was what you would call a “fat bird”, there was fat everywhere there shouldn’t have been, but she was young enough and fit enough that none of it had yet been affected by gravity and started to sag, so it wasn’t revolting, it was more cuddly, but the main attraction was GG cup tits. (the pic above is GG cup)
GG cup is significantly bigger than the human head, even on this fat bird they looked massive, frankly if she had been 36-24-36 they would have looked freakish and “uncanny valley” and quite unreal and totally photo-shopped or CGI‘d
The interesting thing about the human head is it is the one part of the human body with the least variation in size across individuals.
So there is this other bitch on the swinging site with, she claims, a pair of GG’s, so I look at her profile pics, and her tits are fucking MAYBE half the size of the girl I was banging, while her body was at least as big, plus, it had all started to sag south with gravity.
The chick in question MAY have been an E cup, so technically I can let the BBW thing go, yeah, she is a Big Busted Wimminz (no, it NEVER meant Big Beautiful Wimminz), but she is a fat bitch BBW.
So I get a wink yesterday morning, from a self described BBW, right away I am suspicious because it is the usual fat bitch photo composition, head and shoulders and bit of cleavage and not much else, but what the fuck as she sounds kinky enough, so I’ll play along for a while.
First thing I says “babe, send me some pics that show all of you, not just that stuff on your profile pix”
Nobody who has been reading this blog is in any illusions that wimminz can’t wait to send nekkid porno pics of themselves to a prospective cock… so time passes, and with each passing hour, we are still doing the odd text, I am still asking where my pix are, she is still making excuses about being busy, so with each passing hour I am revising upwards the probable land whale factor.
Eventually the pic arrives, and I will spare you the trauma of sharing it here.
The tits *may* be D cup, but it’s hard to tell because really they are just sagging and flabby and resting like deflated balloons on a beach ball, the upper torso is a triple wide rear slick of pink blubber, but it’s got a flat or it’s all distorted like a dragster slick, there is a fold that goes where the belly button would normally be, and this fold wraps completely around the body as far as I can see from the pic, if you are thinking of the gap between a close spaced pair of rear duallies you’re on the right track, and so we move south to what is traditionally referred to as the spare tyre, more double wide flabby pink slick, and this also hangs gravity style, I presume there is a cunt under there somewhere, there is no way to tell, there could be 8 inches of swinging cock and it would be concealed behind the drooping blubber.
Under this are two “relatively” slimmish legs, but the skin of the left and right legs is touching in a solid mass all the way down to the calf, about 12″ off the ground.
You know that feeling you get when you just fucking KNOW what the other person is expecting you to say…
I can tell, I am supposed to say something nice, something complimentary, something supportive, and while her body is big enough, so is Canada, that don’t make it easy to find nice things to say about it, when you were hoping to get transported to BC is summer, and you got transported to Sudbury, post apocalypse…
“You’re a fucking fat bitch innit” I say, because she has rang me to chase up the compliment, because it has been several minutes of silence from me, no texts no nothing
This doesn’t go down to well, so I try to resolve the issue by asking her why she eats so much yet also clearly has so many issues with her own body image.
Suddenly all trace of the submissive slut disappears, to be replaced with a whiny shouty arrogant entitled fat bitch, which coincides with the CIA trying to hack my phone and causing the call to be dropped…. >;*)
I am hesitant to say that all fat bitches have a severe fucking attitude problem, because I might thus give the impression to the less experienced men out there that slim wimminz are NAWALT, and that simply ain’t so.
What I am saying is that in my experience all fat bitches do not JUST have all the AWALT that all slim wimminz have, they have extra helpings of that too… worst of a bad breed as it were.
I’m reminded of a joke from my youth, when there simply was not the obesity epidemic that there is today;
Why did God make fat people smell?
So blind people could hate them too.
February 2, 2013
Truth or Dare
I see a lot of posts in the MRM talking about religion, and the lack of religion as being part and parcel of the breakdown of marriage 1.0 and the declining standards of wimminz etc.
Substitute any other hobby horse you like for “religion” and you just covered 99% of the manosphere.
Thing is, this is dishonest, and the problem really is not that complex.
What all these hobby horses have in common is the exact same thing, pressure on the wimminz in question to stand by her word.
It really is as simple as that.
It’s not that marriage 1.0 wimminz stood by her man because she had religion, it’s that she stood by her man, the why doesn’t matter a damn.
If you owe me 50 bucks, I really don’t give a fuck what your motivation was for repaying me, all I give a fuck about is you repaying the 50 bucks when you said you would.
It could be because god told you to, or it was a day with a T in it, or a black cat crossed your path, I don’t give a flying fuck, any more than I would if those same reasons were used by you to justify not paying me back on time.
99.999% of what I give a fuck about is you standing by your word, and paying me back when you said you would.
I’m not sure why most of the MRM appears to care about the reasons, and not the actions, but I do have a theory.
That theory is you can’t really give a fuck about other people standing by their word unless you give a fuck about standing by your word… I think the two processes are indivisible.
I fucking detest my psycho skank ho ex, and all the secret family court lawyers and judges etc, because they make it impossible for me to stand by my word (it was implied, not stated, to an unborn child, but that does not matter to a man) and be there to care for and teach my sons… I was left with two choices;
- Break that implied word / duty by being imprisoned for refusing to stop trying to keep it.
- Break that implied word / duty by walking the fuck away and refusing to let them make me a niggerz
Let me give you a small example.
There is a phrase that I can remember my mother saying to me as a small boy.
Much of the MRM will say this is because my mother was a religious woman who entered into a marriage 1.0 with my father, etc etc etc.
I have no way to prove it, but I would bet large amounts of money that this is a phrase my sons will never hear from their psycho skank ho mummy, nor is it something that any other skank ho single mummies ever say to their kids, it has been lost from society.
This is the phrase that my mum said to me, when I lied to her, when she asked me if I had Tom’s mum’s permission if Tom Dick Harry and I could all go out to play in the woods.
“My mother (e.g. my grandmother) always said she would rather have a thief in her house than a liar, because if you have a thief in your house all you have to do is lock your nice things away, but there is nothing you can do with a liar.”
Certainly for the first half of my life I struggled with that more than anything else, in the here and now of goldfish memory telling a lie is the quick and easy way out, or way in, or way to get something, or way to avoid something.
It was complicated by the fact that at school telling a lie and so not grassing up a fellow pupil was seen as being more honourable than telling the truth and grassing them up.
“No Sir I don’t know who did it Sir” was always better than “Yes Sir Jimmy did it Sir”
But I always struggled with this, because it meant that telling a lie was better than telling the truth, and also that telling the truth was more important than honour and loyalty to your classmates.
Rather like a computer given an impossible task, my solution was not a solution at all, in that I did not come up with it, it just happened, endless feedback loop, zombie children roaming in the pipes.
My “solution” was to simply refuse to answer the question.
Did you hear the question boy?
Yes Sir.
Are you going to answer it then?
No Sir.
And so it came to pass that I very quickly gained a reputation for what was classed as “dumb insolence“, which followed me through my scholastic career and in many ways blighted it.
Of course to the tyrannical and authoritarian masters at school, I was the Antichrist, but there were some others, who never commented upon my dumb insolence, but who never asked me those kinds of questions again, and who sometimes had a kind word to say to me and a gentle smile.
In hindsight I can also see that despite the exhortations of my parents to work harder at school and to stop constantly being in trouble, not once, ever, was I chastised for my dumb insolence, which was after all the cause of it all…
Back then I could never have predicted seeing my own sons in similar unpleasant circumstances, or hearing about such things anecdotally after I was barred from contact with them, albeit domestic rather than scholastic circumstances, and I hear that the boys just go all quiet and stubborn when asked to agree to something that they know is not true.
While I think the would would be a better place is there was a lot more dumb insolence in it, this isn’t about blowing my own trumpet.
Most people will either lie about who did it or grass Johnny up to the teacher, people like me are the outliers, I know this, but perhaps we are also the canary in the coal mine.
People who have more than a passing fondness for the truth, people who have already been butt-fucked enough for their fondness that they no longer hold out any hope of getting a fair shake of the stick, people who may not have been thoroughly honest all their lives, but people who do not have a pile of things accrued through lies and deceit.
The trick of course is to not be the canary in the coalmine, be the jackdaw in the trees outside the coalmine, let some other fucker be the lighting rod.
In hindsight, that is the lesson that it took me 30 years after school to learn.
