January 31, 2013
January 28, 2013
The intersting thing about free will…
Is not that it isn’t free, but just how much of it is ruled by biochemistry.
I have wibbled on here before about Toxoplasma gondii, whichy makes cat piss smell interesting, and cat people, but there are better examples.
The guinea worm is one, you get it by drinking infected water, then it grows in the gut until it is as thick as a piece of spaghetti and 18 – 24 inches long, whereupon it burrows its way down through your limbs, and when it is ready to emerge and lay eggs and start the cycle again, it drives the host to water.
The point many people do not get, is these parasites are able to significantly influence the behaviour of the host organism, and it doesn’t really matter what the host organism is, human, oxen or goat, the same parasite is able to exude a biochemical trigger that has the exact same effect, not just across individuals, but across species.
Different parasites have different goals, and when you start to study it it is hard to come up with some aspect of human behaviour that cannot be either directly or indirectly influenced by the parasite
Which makes the whole concept of free will interesting, living in a modern technological society where were are effectively swimming in a biochemical soup all thanks to modern technology and mass produced products.
If a specific biochemical can trigger an interest in cat piss across species, and another specific biochemical can trigger an urge to go down to the pond or river and stand in the water, and so on and so forth, it isn’t really that much of a stretch to imagine a specific biochemical trigger that can make men more gay, or make wimminz more slutty.
In fact, it isn’t any kind of stretch at all, the contraceptive pill is nothing but a biochemical trigger, and I have been around this planet long enough and fucked enough wimminz to spot the marked differences in behaviour between a wimminz on estrogen, a wimminz on nowt and going through her cycles, a wimminz who is pregnant, etc etc etc.
Sure, it’s anecdotal, as is the observation that wimminz that drink over a litre of coke a day are all fucking cluster B and have a messy house, or the observation that wimminz who have had a lot of cock have a very high incidence of cervical cancer, or the observation that wimminz with blue cars don’t have steady boyfriends…
… but just because it is anecdotal doesn’t mean it is shit… red sky at night, sailor’s delight…
… which all reminded me of a crazy bitch I fucked years ago, she was every bit as crazy as the crazy I fucked last week, the word many will use is delusional… and she used to spout about the Nazi’s and BASF and Bayer and mind control through chemicals and all that good jazz.
To me she was just a crazy bitch and a good fuck, but about a year later I was talking to another guy who had porked her for a bit, can’t even remember his name, but he had a then brand new Yam XJ650, and during the conversation I found out he was a research biochemist, imagine my surprise when he tells me that in between fucking her they were talking and his job came up and next thing he knows she is hitting him with a whole load of (then) cutting edge biochemistry, and it was soon apparent to him that she was much better trained at his job than he was, she was in his own words world class and could write her own ticket anywhere on the planet, if she wasn’t so crazy…
But her “crazy” was insisting that all these big companies were collecting data on how various compounds could influence human behaviour, 30 years later she doesn’t sound so fucking crazy to me…
Now, I don’t pretend to know all the answers, or even a few of them, but I do find these to be interesting questions, and while I am the first to admit that correlation =! causation, there sure are a shit lot of parallels since around 1960 onwards to the changing environment in which we immerse ourselves, biochemically, and the way attitudes and society has changed.
The fact that we HAVE been performing this great biochemical experiment upon ourselves is not in doubt, where I would differ from the 1980 crazy is in suggesting that it is all deliberate and planned… if there is data gathering it is no wonder after things like Thalidomide, which could well have affected me if my mother took it during pregnancy, for I was of that era… nobody wants a lawsuit.
I share a lot of genetic material with one set of cousins, unlike them we always eat fresh food and veg, where they always eat frozen, the aunt in question was well known for having two chest freezers full of food and never any fresh foods in the house, “Mrs Bird’s Eye” she was called… so it is definitely a correlation that the cousins in question are all in poor health compared to me, despite the fact that I am older than all of them, but is it a causation… good question… I wish I knew the answer.
But it isn’t just health, there are broad and obvious behavioural differences between us too, as as far as nurture vs nature, well, one of their parents and one of my parents grew up together as siblings, so they came with common values and standards and history…
And when it comes to progeny, their kids bear almost no resemblance to them when they were little kids themselves, but mine are always seen as being “mini-me”.
Could this all be down to growing up eating processed frozen foods wrapped in plastics? Of course it could…but how to prove it, and even if you could what would be the point, you can’t go back in time and reverse it.
To this day, if I get the munchies I grab a piece of fruit or maybe a jam sandwich, biscuits and chocolate and crisps and pot noodles and suchlike are things I literally may eat once a year.
But then, in reality I am not a control specimen, I am just choosing to immerse myself in a different end of the biochemical pool that we all live in now, it’s not a deep or containing as many complex compounds, but it certainly isn’t 1950 style either…. maybe that by itself is sufficient to explain why my attitudes are perceived as being old fashioned.
January 25, 2013
January 24, 2013
Sitting on a rock with Otis
So it’s nearly 4pm, I am not yet dressed, sat here warming myself in front of a fire basically doing sweet fuck all.
Keep getting thoughts, I should be doing something, not vegging out here.
But then again..
…pauses while I make myself another coffee, scratch my balls and roll a smoke…
… I’ve lived long enough to know that sitting on a rock and not being the early bird is a valid survival tactic.
Particularly now.
See, one quite valid way of looking at human beings is their average personal daily energy expenditure… 12 MJ per day will keep the average human being alive and active.
12 MJ per day is about 3.3 kWh per day.
Now while a lot of shit is talked about how hard we had to work in olden days just to get enough to eat, the fact is, some pursuits that we did in the olden days really have changed.
At current UK energy prices, and as discussed elsewhere it doesn’t make a huge amount of difference how you buy your energy, mains electric at 15 pence per kWh, or 1.40 per litre for diesel (35 MJ per litre, or 10 kWh, so £1.40 / 10 = 14p) your are paying roughly the same for your kWh, roughly rule of thumb 15 pence per kWh.
My mobe has a 2 Wh battery, which lasts 48 hours, so the energy consumption is negligible, but the contract (unlimted calls texts and data) is a pound a day, at at 15p per kWh that means 6 kWh per day, that is double my physical requirements, but it is a tool, a tool that I use to bring in money, and therefore kWh.
So I am sitting on my rock last night and a chick I haven’t spoken to for 10 days or so sends me a text, hello, jane53 is back on the radar.
As a whole, as the proportion of my daily 6 kWh the mobe + contract consumes, this SMS is again a negligible amount, and this brings me to the real point of the sitting on the rock or the bay with Otis like a lizard, waiting for the sun to warm me, and waiting for my food to wander by, thing comes to.
I’m sitting on a rock waiting for the poontang.
I’m burning less energy getting poon than any human being in human history, not just per cunt or per fuck, but overall….
… pauses while I take a leisurely dump and piss…
… and this is, I feel, enormously significant from a natural world perspective.
Nature is endlessly adaptable, no niche is left unexploited, and so when presented with a way to lower the energy cost of reproduction, nature takes advantage of it, and so we have people like me, red pillers and technocrats both, who embrace the opportunities provided, even if physical reproduction does not issue from the copulation.
I think, as a species, we have missed seeing the 9 million pound gorilla in the room.
I have said it once and a million times, nobody could have foreseen or been prepared for the ways in which electronics and computing impacted and changed the ways in which we as human beings deal with currencies and accounting, indeed if you take computers and the net away from currencies and accounting, our banking systems must revert to the way they were in 1970.
The contraceptive pill and feminazi policies changes society beyond recognition, and again if we were to take away contraception, abortion and IVF etc etc and some basic feminazi social policies then society would have to revert to 1950.
The same is true of the whole internet dating thing, the immediacy, anonymity and above all minuscule energy cost required to use PoF or a swinging site has changed the way we go about getting sex.
As a poster in another forum said, “You can’t put the shit back in the horse.”
You can’t go back to the old ways of getting sex unless you eradicate the modern IT world, and make the energy expended per hook up go through the roof, back to what it was in 1960.
Speaking as a scientific man, I do not think ANYONE appreciates the consequences of this.
Lets round down my age to 50, and lets say I started fucking at 20, that gives me 30 years of fucking. 30 x 365 = 10,950 days… not a very big number… the last 12 years since the internet really started to take off is 12 x 365 = 4,380, and the last 4 years since powerful and capable internet connected smart-phones really started to take off is 4 x 365 = 1,460
Now let’s take a 50 mile radius of where I am, there are around a million females who will potentially fuck me… 30 years ago I had to choose between what was available in the bar I was in at that time, today I can have a smart-phone in my pocket and “signal” my availability via some hookup app / site, and take advantage of that far greater catchment area.
30 years ago if you were fucking a different wimminz every week you were either a rich playboy, a fucking liar, or someone who lived in a holiday destination where millions of white chicks flew in and out every day on package holidays.
Today if you are fucking a different wimminz every week you are just some guy with a smart-phone in your pocket, and the geographic catchment area of poon is much much smaller than the 80’s playboy or vacation island guy was porking.
Again, nature abhors a vacuum, so we are in a whole new ball game as far as sexually transmitted infections go, and I am NOT just talking a dose of the clap, I’m talking everything from insemination through bird flu through per-cancerous virii through you name it.
Yes, the wimminz now have a choice greater than the three eligible guys in their village, but so do men, and the energy cost / expenditure has dropped through the floor.
I have seen and done it fucking all sexually, the yank musclecar, the harley, the twin V8 powerboat, the yacht, the flash apartment, the high income, every peacocking fucking thing going, and I am here to tell you that you can put ALL that shit in one pile, along with the pill and rubbers and viagra and porn, and it doesn’t amount to a hill of beans next to the internet + smartphone, which is an Olympus Mons, the greatest sex aid ever invented.
But it keeps coming back to that energy expenditure in kWh per poon… which at no time in human history has ever been within several orders of magnitude of being this low, which is currently so low that it is hovering around the point where I might actually expend more energy actually physically fucking a wimminz, than I do it getting to that point.
You can’t change that cost back up to what it was without wiping out smart-phones & the net, back to the stone age baby.
And you can’t go back to the dynamic that existed throughout the entire history of the human race when it comes to relations between the sexes, unless you can change that energy expenditure per poon back to what it was.
This is profound in ways that are hard to express.
Marriage 1.0? Forget it..
Just today a married woman who has been cheating behind her husband’s back messaged me asking if I want to fuck her, or fuck her in a threesome with another guy, or fuck her in a threesome with a girl of my choice.
Marriage 1.0 along with Family 1.0 and Wife 1.0 and Girlfriend 1.0 and Sex 1.0 are all as dead as the dinosaur.
Repeal every feminazi law on the planet and it won’t change a damn thing, as long as the energy cost of meeting and fucking is now down on a par with the energy expended in the act itself.
The MRM is not merely dead, it is as irrelevant as tits on a bull… but the good news is so is the pwincesses’ vagina on a pedestal… nobody is going to crawl over 200 free cunts to get to one self entitled one.
NOBODY.
Jane53 knows this, instinctively, as many wimminz do;
- The energy expenditure for me to find her is effectively zero.
- She is just one bean on a plate of beans, she can blow me out after one fuck and the energy expenditure for me to substitute her is effectively zero.
- So the only game left in town is a net expenditure of energy on her part to keep me there, and to entice me back.
I’m the same age as Jane53’s dad… and I have had wimminz before who will feed and water me and all that good shit as well as drain my balls… but Jane53 was a first…
Jane53 wasn’t a first because she has an unusually male and practical brain for a wimminz, or any of the other stuff, she is a first because she said to me in her own words, with regard to me not having heard from her for nearly two weeks;
“… I fucked up, I made an assumption about you that was wrong, I don’t mind you fucking other wimminz, I’d just like you to not rub my nose in it…
… I know the worst thing I can do to you is lie to you, I know I will get caught out sooner or later, and so I want you to know that in the last ten days I haven’t been with anyone else, I haven’t been with anyone since you..”
There was more to it than that, again stuff I have heard before, but never in all my born days have I heard a woman say to me I know I will get caught out in any lies I tell, and I know you aren’t going to believe me because you are going to wait and see if I say or do something that indicates that what I am saying now might be a lie, but I ain’t been anywhere near a man since you, and I want you to come a take me and fuck me and use me…
And I expended sweet fuck all energy to get that, which makes it all the sweeter… lrfh
Now, ‘scuse me while I roll over and sun my other side.
January 21, 2013
Fucking Crazy
I was, last night, fucking a crazy that is… comes from the school of do as I say, not as I do, I guess, but anyway, there I was, fucking this self confessed crazy bitch who fried her brain’s biochemistry years ago on ganja.
OK, I wanted a fuck, but really the reason was this, when I started talking to her she reminded me of a crazy chick I knew and fucked in around 1980, bitch would go moo and maa and all that shit and smoke some grass and then take a handful of mogadon, and then we would get it on, crazy bitch but an interesting fuck.
So I took it in my head to do some brideshead revisited and fuck a similar ish crazy bitch 30 years later in real time, but 20 years later in crazy bitch time, as this one was 40 and had been hitting the pills for 20 years.
Shit that amused me back then was frankly boring as fuck when it came out of this bitch’s mouth, heard one delusion / psychosis heard em all, heard on tale of infantile sexual abuse heard em all, heard one vile attempt at poetry heard em all, heard one the aliens mind control nazis po-lice and coming to get me heard em all…
… and so it was that at 11 pm when I had finished plundering all her holes and dumping my cum, I did the whole make me a coffe bitch thing and got dressed, and set my phone to do the Fake Call Me thing in five minutes, drink my coffee, phone goes off so I give her the whole Babe-I-gotta-go-the-mothership-is-calling-we-are-moving-the-invasion-date-up thing and get the fuck out.
And so it is that as midnight strikes I am sitting in my warm german mothership listening to the muted beat of the straight six diesel at 2500 RPM on roads largely deserted because of the ice and snow, reflecting on the passage of 20 years of self medication on crazy bitches, and brothers, there are a lot of them out there..
And I move on to the other bitches on the production line and realise I have done it again, I have reached that stage beyond asshole game and arrogant asshole game and extreme asshole game and gotten to “meh” game, that cycle where my desire for new cunt is sub-zero, and any amount of pleasure extracted from dumping my cum is always exceeded by my distaste for the bitch involved.
As the miles hum by I come to realise something, the end of 2012 and the beginning of 2013 has seen a startling shift in wimminz, and I was too close to the cunt to see the trees.
Bitches are starting to get desperate and scared… it’s the fucking swansong and they know it.
In the last six months bitches have NO money, stories I have seen and heard, interest only mortgage (by definition, NONE of the capital paid off) with a year to run and ZERO possibility of a re-mortgage, bitches have to choose between buying food or buying heating oil, bitches have to choose between buying food or putting fuel in the car to come see me and get fucked, bitches being told their jobs are at risk, and they realise they have no savings and debt falling out of their asses, bitches considering getting back with their ex’s, because the ex is still working and has money, bitches who are accumulating broken appliances around the house, because they have to money to repair or replace, and so, in short, bitches who are getting more desperate and ironically MORE demanding, they less they have to offer and the greater their need.
Take back the night and take back the streets, the bitches are getting scared, because they can walk through the city in the day time in a week day and see less people about, less shoppers, very few people carrying bags from shops, and they are starting to feel alone and vulnerable, not a part of the crowd.
The city I was in last night fucking crazy is known for being an an area that paradoxically lost most of the native industry and so is poor, but also had a shitload of development money thrown at it, so there are gleaming new city centres and white elephant buildings, and out in the burbs it is all mass unemployment and petty crime and drugs.
The younger wimminz, in their twenties, can trade cunt for drugs, the older wimminz hand over their cash cards to the dealers who go to the hole in the wall every week and draw out the monies paid in by the state for child benefit and then hand over the dope.
Wimminz who fuck up have cash bounties put on their heads for s severe beating, and even I raised my eyebrows at the prices, spoke to one chick living in fear, she knew who put the bounty on her, and she knew it was £100, but she can’t even earn that sort of money on her back, not even at £10 a time because it is all she can do to get one guy to pay £10 to fuck her, mark to market economics at its best…. fuck me back in 1980 it was 50 quid for a good beating, and 50 quid in 1980 is worth at least 500 today.
I drove into the place at around seven pm, and from the motorway exit to the bitch’s flat I did not see one single pub or shop open, most of what I did see was not merely shut, but boarded up…. times are hard when not even the paki’s will move in and open a corner shop, and not even the chinks will move in and open a takeaway…
…and this isn’t even a sinkhole estate, this was a *good* area of the city in question…
To be honest this was largely why I decided it was time to do some fucking crazy, she lived in a city I hadn’t been to for a while and it was an excuse to go there and drive through it, thinking when she opens the door I can always decide no way and walk away, but when she opened the door it wasn’t that bad so I stayed and fucked it and got distracted from my alternate purpose by her crazy.
I’m glad I did, because otherwise the local picture is the only one you see, and you can end up with confirmation bias.
I’m also glad I did because fucking crazy was enough to tip me over the edge and complete another cycle of fuck / don’t fuck.
I’m also glad I did because the serenity of cruising back along deserted highways in the mothership gave me time to think and realise that lately the wimminz have been getting desperate and nastier with it.
I’m glad I did because all these things are feedback loops, they all play a part in my losing interest in fucking bitches for a while, and my losing interest in fucking bitches for a while allows me to see all these things a little more clearly than when dumping some cum is on the agenda.
As an interesting anecdote, fucking crazy is also convinced that 2013 is when it starts to go bad for real.
Fucking crazy reminded me of an old story, allegedly true. (this is from before the days of mobile phones and breakdown cover)
Guy is driving along a road in the country, and THUMP, gets out and finds one wheel has fallen off his car, the wheel is easy enough to retrieve, but of course the 4 wheel nuts are all long gone.
Guy starts cursing and kicking the shit out of the wheel in question, when he hears giggling behind him.
Guy looks around and sees a brick wall “St Eustatic Mental Hospital” on a sign, and this fella leaning on the wall.
Fella leaning on the wall says “HI, I’m a patient here, got a cigarette”
Guy thinks what the fuck, could do with a smoke myself to calm down, so pulls out the smokes, hands one to the fella and lights both up.
Fella says “Why don’t you take one wheel nut of each of the other three wheels, and use those three nuts to attach that wheel?”
Guy is impressed at this, and says so.
Fella says “Listen mate, I’m fucking crazy, not stupid.”
Related articles
- Noises (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Giving a fuck. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
January 19, 2013
Comments not aloud.
See the DM is on again about this (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2264822/I-proud-children-DNA-tests-shattered-life–Anguish-divorced-father-paid-15-000-maintenance-offspring-werent-his.html) and as usual for anything likely to attract any red pill comments, comments are disallowed.
Back when I was a lad (OK, there was no intertubez, but that doesn’t void the principle) such loaded and opinionated pieces were identified by a special page in the paper, and the heading was “Editorial”.
Now the editorial has gone along with the news, all that is left is the propaganda.
Which is why it is both refreshing and surprising when Money Week says
We believe the outcome of this problem is inevitable… and the recession, joblessness and instability you see right now is only the first stage of it. Many people think the slump we’re in now is as bad as it will get.
But the truth is, it’s only the start. In fact, you will certainly see the consequences of this deep-rooted problem unfold across the cities, towns and villages of Britain. No one will escape the fallout.
In all recorded history, no country has ever recovered from the financial position we find ourselves in today. No government has ever been able to reverse this trend. No emergency action has ever come close to a solution. This inescapable problem has only ever had one outcome: financial collapse.
(http://www.moneyweek.com/endofbritain)
So, the cat is finally out of the bag on the edges of the MSM, the edges where the sharks live, everyone else is still printing drivel about the Kardashians and men being evil for wanting to know if their kids are their own, and as the DM article shows, even the guy’s own mother turned against him, not because he was the instigator, he wasn’t, he was just the whistle blower who wanted some personal truth and justice.
2013 is here, you better have already left (the west) if you have serious wealth, or you better have already got yourself into a subsistence and survival lifestyle if you ain’t and you’re stuck here like most.
I smell fresh pussy…
January 17, 2013
January 15, 2013
Do Androids dream of eclectic sheeple
I have banged on loads, and with reason, in the right sidebar about the vast benefits of equipping yourself with a smart-phone and a google account and tracking everything.
In response to *many* emails and messages, this is my 101.
As previously discussed;
- Get an Android smartphone
- Sign up for a google gmail account
- Set the gmail account in the smart-phone and set everything to sync
Now, the details.
Android is great, but it is the apps that bring it all alive.
I have already discussed Google Latitude providing you with a historical record of WHERE you were at any given time or day, now let’s boost it.
Once you have done steps 1 to 3 above, you can sit down at any computer with a web browser and point it at https://play.google.com/ and login with your gmail address and password, it will log you in to the play store, and identify the phone you created the account on in step 3 above.
Now you can use the search function to search for apps, and even install them to the phone automagically from this browser window, get all these and install them.
-
SMS Backup +
This app creates two new folder in your gmail account, “call log” and “sms” (you can rename them) and will either manually or automatically back up all call logs and sms / mms messages to these folders, it will also restore if required… in addition, it will also add the call log records (incoming and outgoing) to your google calendar.
-
This is a barcode reader that reads all sorts of barcodes, including QR codes, you can do all sorts of neat stuff like share phone numbers, full contact info, map locations, wifi accounts, it is “just” a utility app, but so useful you should grab it and use it.
- AirDroid
SAND STUDIO
AirDroid starts a service on the phone, over wifi, that allows any computer to type a URL such as 192.169.0.10:8888 into a web browser and see an interface to the phone… this URL, along with the required password, is displayed on the phone screen. From the computer browser you can then send and receive SMS, up / download photos, browse files, listen to music, etc etc etc… very handy tool
- Dropbox
Cloud storage, if you grab an app called Sandisk Memory Zone it will do an online backup to cloud storage of selected directories on your phone, eg DCIM / camera.
- Titanium Backup PRO Key ★ root
Titanium Track
Titanium is pretty much the Android backup tool for backing up installed apps and user data, but it is pretty pointless unless you back it up to a removeable miniSD card in the phone, and NOT to the phone internal memory, because anything that wipes the phones internal memory will wipe your backups too, and many tools like Odin etc are capable of wiping and moving partition tables on your phone’s internal memory.
- Cheetah Sync for Files/Folders
JRTStudio
Wifi File Explorer is the tool to use if you want to browse the file structure of your phone from a web browser on your computer, and while it is good for moving single files to and fro, it doesn’t work for quantities of files, enter Cheetah sync, which can sync from phone to PC, or PC to phone, or both ways, just select the folder on the phone, the folder on the PC, give that sync job a name (you can store many different sync jobs) and whenever you feel like it, run it… I have one job that syncs my entire 32 GB miniSD card in the phone to a directory in my laptop
There are others, SeekDroid is handy for locating a lost phone, or remotely wiping it, Qik is an app that uploads a photo to a web-server as soon as you take it (handy to defeat po-lice instructions to wipe / delete), WhatsApp is a handy way to send pictures without incurring a charge as you would as MMS, Magnify turns your phone into a handy magnifying glass, Brightest Flashlight is self explanatory, there is a WordPress app to allow you to post to blogs like this, and one for Drupal if you host yourself, the beat goes on …
The point is, you are walking around with a technological marvel in your pocket that would have utterly blown away not only the entire moon landing effort, but also anything that ran the first “modern” version of Windows, 95a, aka Chicago, WITH ALL THE PERIPHERALS INCLUDED.
Most people only use 1% of the functionality.
All I suggest you do is use 5% of the functionality, you are getting tracked and traced and recorded anyway, this way you and your legal representatives get access to that data too.
There is NO EXCUSE for a man to get convicted of a false accusation of DV or sexual abuse.
The only downside is other extreme laws, and this article would not be complete without mentioning them, this especially applies to all you men out there with kids who have a smartphone.
- In many places, such as the UK, extreme and child pornography is an “absolute” offence, and the “absolute” means that in Law, no defence can be made. You ARE guilty.
- In many places, such as the UK, “possession” is defined as being in a position of responsibility, if your kid comes to visit on your one weekend in the month, and this kid has illegal shit on their phone, it is in your house, they are a minor, you are the responsible legal adult, you will be deemed to be in “possession” in Law.
- In many places, such as the UK, “making” is defined as what your web browser already did when it displayed the image above.
To sum up, if that image above was of a girl who was, or WHO APPEARED TO BE, less than 16 years old, it WOULD be classed as child pornography, to which no legal defence is possible, you own the device it is displayed on, or the property in which the device it is displayed on is sat, so it WOULD be classed as possession, and of course as per point three you WOULD in Law have been making that image.
Making and possession of child pornography, no defence possible, guilty, sex offenders register, probably prison time too.
These are not possible or probable outcomes, they are absolutely guaranteed as certain as death cancer and taxes outcomes.
Being in the company of a child is now far less dangerous legally than being in the company of the smart-phone in the child’s pocket.
=========================================================
Encryption.
It is one option, you can encrypt your phone, and your PC, and sooner or later the word privacy will be mentioned, but you don’t have any privacy, all this data I am talking about making available to yourself above is already being collected anyway, that is how the technology works, so there is no privacy, and once you realise that then encryption ceases to be a tool to protect your privacy, and starts to be a tool that law enforcement see as a sign of guilt…
Sure, the fuckers have access to all that data anyway, they just tell your cell provider to pony up and grab your computers and smartphone, but the key phrase with law enforcement is the thing they say to you when they arrest you.
“Anything you say may me taken down and used in evidence against you.”
Doesn’t say shit about anything you say may be taken down and used as evidence to exculpate you and eliminate you from enquiries.
Standard procedure is in fact to simply ignore anything that might show your innocence, all they are looking for is stuff that makes you look guilty… encryption makes you look guilty, and doesn’t prevent them getting cell data anyway.
A citizen under arrest and caution is the last motherfucker on the planet who should be arguing about civil liberties.
January 14, 2013
It’s a wild world
I make lots of small bets with myself, like “that’s it, that bitch ain’t gonna ask me for another fuck” and so on, and often times I find myself wishing I was a much bigger cunt than I am, so that I could name names, post SMS history, use actual images.
It would be a lot easier to explain what I am trying to say that way.
For want of a better moniker, jane49 falls into this category, we met, we fucked like bunnies for a month or two, she pulled some typical wimminz dissembling bullshit on me, I called her on it, she went away with her feelings hurt, we still talk now and again, but she ain’t gonna ask me for another fuck, that’s my bet.
I’d quite like to fuck her again, massive tits, smells nice, good company, but that is just one aspect of her personality, the other aspect is the career girl…
Just this morning I was talking to another chick, this chick has been diagnosed as schizophrenic, but the ironic thing is, unlike jane49, this chick knows she has separate and conflicting personalities and desires, jane49 doesn’t, so as soon as her sexual life with me started to creep out of the petri dish that her career girl life imposed, everything got closed down.
It’s a fucked up world when those with severe mental issues are more honest with themselves and you than an apparently got it together independent career girl.
But it all serves to remind me of a simple fact of (my) male psychology, and that simple fact is that if a wimminz does not fuck me for two weeks, she is fading fast from my radar, and as soon as you start fading from my radar it is the good things that fade first, sure, I remember the GG cup tits, but with fondness not lust, meanwhile the negatives occupy more of the remaining radar plot, the skin that really should have been better on a 30 year old, the weight that really should have been 40lbs less, the way my bathroom stank of hairspray when you did stay over and got ready in the morning…
And then these fade too…
And then some months later I hook up with a chick who wants me to come over and use and abuse her, so the bitch gives me her address and zip for the GPS, and I think, “Hey, jane33 lived in that village, wonder what she is up to now” because the fact is jane33 fell off the radar, the same way jane49 is now, and so the road to oblivion and old age smelling of cats and piss is paved for all these wimminz.
There are a lot of janes’ out there that I simply pass on, unfuckable and nothing about them would induce me to waste an hour of my life in their company, and without exception if you could wind the clock back ten or twenty years, or cocks, or whatever, go back in time, they would have been different, they would have been a jane33 or a jane49.
I don’t even feel sorry for these janes’ any more, I don’t even sigh at the wasted potential… my life is too short to expend even that much time on their plight, because it is totally self inflicted.
But I am aware that there is a general social cost, a debt stored away for future redemption.
I am also acutely aware that I am living a lifestyle that is tailored to minimise my exposure, while living off the fat while I can, my current lifestyle is no more moral or high born than a crow, hopping across a battlefield and eating the eyes of the dead.
Fuck it, rather pull up some old David Allan Coe and chill.
But, I have to be honest, there is a nasty part of me that hopes he is still in contact with jane49 when the wheels fall off her wagon, ayup, “How’d that work out for ya?” and “Told ya so!” spring to mind.
See, let’s take jane49 as an example, the story and details will change with the jane, but the basic backstory and principle is all the same.
Jane49 has a house on a mortgage, but it is a modern mortgage, (back when I was a lad doing accountancy a mortgage = a debt = a liability, nowadays people call it a fucking asset… go figure) negative equity special before we even get a property crash, but thankfully for her she has some tenants in that are paying enough rent to cover the mortgage payments, so she just isn’t looking at what could go wrong here, or how wrong it could go, so her eye is firmly on the fact she just rolled a bunch of sixes in a row, and the only permit-able reality is she is going to be able to continue to roll sixes… you can try to talk to her about it, and she will accept that other outcomes are possible, dislike where that train of thought is going, and dismiss the whole issue, after all, she is rolling sixes.
She has a job here, some distance from her house, so she has a flat on a lease / rent, and her job is basically sales, and it is a foreign owned company, and 99% of what they sell is basically cheap imported crap from china.
Between this that and the other, despite the company car, she doesn’t save any money, all those salon treatments, nights out and so on.
So of course all it takes is a blip in the UK economy, which is tanking, or a blip in the chinese economy, or a simple thing like a blip in the exchange rate or shipping costs, and the whole business model of the foreign company she works for crumbles.
She isn’t going to get ANOTHER job elsewhere in sales, because the sorts of things discussed above hit the whole economy, it’s not like the kenyan coffee company goes tits up because of a civil war in kenya, so you can go work for the colombian coffee company instead.
The first thing the foreign company will do is drop the 9,500 chinese made things from the product line, and go back to the 500 EU made things, that’s called restructuring, and that means job losses across the board.
A “career” in sales isn’t a great thing when the economy tanks, and you have no savings, no transport when the company car is taken, no home because yours is rented out, and oh yeah, house prices just dropped 30% so you can’t sell as you owe £130k on a place that might sell at £100k, if you are lucky.
You’re now mid thirties, so your best reproductive years are behind you, and all you can do is wail that “Nobody could have predicted this!!!”
Me coughs politely… “‘scuse me bitch, I did predict this, exactly… so remind me, bitch, this career of yours that was more important than a relationshit with me, how did that work out for ya?”
And then we get to the nitty gritty… even if she threw herself at me, what’s in it for me?
It was all fine and dandy when the bitch had a disposable income and could feed and clothe herself and turn up at mine with a bottle and some eats, or I’d go to hers because she had a nice place and the heating was on and there was coffee in….
But NOW? Now you don’t have shit?
The really interesting thing, for the boy that used to do accountancy within me, is if you do a balance sheet for her life NOW, when everything is find and dandy and her career comes first, she is left with net liabilities, and if you do another one where she has lost her job / career, and her house is in 30% negative equity, she is still left with net liabilities, and to be honest, they aren’t THAT much greater than now.
The difference will be in the cash flow, income and expenditure department, she won’t be able to service those liabilities, or me…
And that little detail is what is going to screw up so many people that you won’t believe….
That little detail is why I can walk through the city centre, and see few people, and see almost nobody with bags of shopping, and all the shops are empty…. it’s not just a question of assets and liabilities, it’s a question of cash flow.
The greater your liabilities, the greater your minimum cash flow needs to be to keep you above economic stall speed, but the effects are the same when you hit it, game over and you fall out of the sky as an independent economic entity.
There is an old saying about being nice to the people you meet on the way up, because you will probably meet most of them again on the way down.
A lesson the janes of this world will learn the hard way.
Related articles
- AWALT v NAWALT (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Giving a fuck. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- NOW I get it, errrr, no I don’t, oh… wait… (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Judge a man (and a wimminz) by his actions, not his words. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
January 13, 2013
That’s another fine mess you’ve got me into
Well, there is this wimminz, it ain’t all that but I have been dumping a load into in now and again, but also being very wary because this wimminz works in the feminazi industry, pretty close to the sharp end.
Now, I’ve never made a secret of my own FRA and somehow at some point got talking to this wimminz about her own chaotic life and toxic female friends, but as always they don’t listen, or if they do it is only partially… so my warnings were falling on stony ground.
So, to cut a long story short, she got involved in the sort of wimminz feminazi all men are evil rapists shit that she does for her work day, as part of her off work day, by way of one of these toxic female friends.
Now you have to bear in mind she has previously told me this story, and I told her it was complete bullshit, and proceeded to completely de-construct it and point out all the obvious contradictions and mutually exclusive claims etc, it’s total bullshit, and she agreed with everything I said, and then accompanied this toxic friend to the po-lice so the toxic friend can tell these same stories about her alleged historic abuser(s), who just happen to be living family members.
Of course within 12 hours all the female relatives of the accused male are screaming blue murder and abuse at “my” cum dump wimminz, and now they are out to destroy her life, turnabout is fair play eh… to all of which she is just shocked, shocked I tell you, after all, she didn’t do anything, it was her toxic mate who claimed to have been abused…
So it is with great mirth and delight that I point out that this system, this feminazi wimminz system in which she herself works and is a part of, in this system, the very first casualty is truth, because as soon as something is said, suddenly there are a handful of professionals, just like her, eager to charge 200 an hour, for as many hours as possible.
<wimminz head assplodez>
So about four times in the next 20 minutes I throw into the conversation the fact that if she thinks she has it tough, spare a thought for the man her toxic friend just railroaded, of course sympathy for a man whose cock they do not desire is a bridge too far for all wimminz, AWALT, so she really doesn’t not want to think about or discuss that, the whole thorny subject of personal consequences and responsibility being totally taboo for all wimminz.
But then something priceless happens.
I tell her a good indication that a rape allegation, or any other fucking story a wimminz tells, is a lie is if it solves more problems FOR THE TELLER than it creates, as was the case here
I tell her that this scenario is true for the 88% of rape allegations made to the police which are false, just like the one her toxic mate just made, she agrees.
Then the priceless bit.
I tell her that I doubt that in all the years she has been working at the sharp end of the feminazi wimminz industry, I doubt there were more than three wimminz who walked through her doors and told the truth about the violence and sexual abuse they suffered at the hands of evil men…. and she is quiet for a minute, nods, and actually fucking agrees with me.
What is interesting about this story, is yet again I see first hand proof.
First hand proof that when forced to face the consequences of their actions and lifestyles and choices, it is AWALT, all wimminz just cease to function intellectually (assuming they ever did) their heads assplode and all mental processes get stuck in a loop where the interrupts / breaker is always, always, always, the issue of individual personal responsibility and consequences.
If I have said it once I have said it a million times, when you warn someone about the course of action they are embarking on and they ignore you, do not listen to you, it is always one of two things;
- they think they are smarter than you, and so what you say is wrong
- they are not prepared to accept the changes they must make in life, and so what you say must be wrong.
Generally speaking men are group 1 and wimminz are group 2, generally speaking.
The wimminz I was dumping a load into and whom I warned fell into group 2, not prepared to dump her toxic friend and tell her that like all wimminz she was a lying sack oh shit, so what I was saying was wrong, so my warnings could be safely ignored…
… and 48 hours later TSHTF, in EXACTLY THE WAY I WARNED….
…worth pointing out, that the wimminz who are out for her blood because she “enabled” her toxic mate to go to the po-lice and report a family member for alleged historic abuse, are not out to get her because an innocent man is going to get the chop… oh no… but because of the consequences of an innocent man who also happens to be their husband / father / uncle / neighbour getting dragged off by the rape squad… the consequences that mean it will, in these other wimminz’ words, cost THEM everything to have this innocent man carted off… loss of a husband, loss of a father, loss of an uncle, loss of a breadwinner, loss of face in the community.
None of them are mourning the fate of the innocent man.
Me me me me me me me me me , that is all any of them are ever thinking, if you will forgive me for using the word thinking…. my cum bucket in this little story is typical of the breed, it doesn’t matter one iota to her that her entire working life and social circle is comprised of toxic scum feminazi wimminz, and what she is facing now is a vastly overdue and vastly watered down red pill, all that matters to her is she is nice and hasn’t done anything to deserve this and wants it all to stop, now.
And this little scene is of course one that has played around every single man falsely accused of domestic violence or raping his wife or buggering his own children.
It is true (just look at our so called leaders) that 95% of men never grow up, they remain spoiled children all their lives, the niggerz, but it is also true of 99.999% of wimminz.
My own cum bucket in this scenario blows all the breakers when she participates in a situation that in reality puts 99.9% of the hurt on an innocent man, and 0.099% of the hurt on the wimminz around him, and 0.0001% of the hurt on her, even though in reality she should be facing at least 10% for being the one who finally “enabled” her toxic mate to take her bullshit victim story to the po-lice…
What the fuck is she, and all the other wimminz in society, gonna do when the economic hurt train comes to town?
“Man up” or “Think it through” are two phrases that do not spring to mind.
She won’t give a fuck if it a GI with candy and nylons or a SS guy with a bottle of claret, bitch is going to spread em faster than a mousetrap can spring shut, to get that GI or SS guy before the bitch next door does.
When times get tough you will NOT see lines of wimminz queueing all day for a loaf of bread, or land girls, or keep calm and carry on.
When times get tough you will see millions of wimminz SCWEAMING for their magic pwincess barbie unicorns, and any one and any thing that they can get their hands on is going to get torn to fucking pieces by the mob.
The only option that will get us out of tough times, manning up, knuckling down, keeping calm and carrying on, cutting our suits according to our cloth, etc etc, is THE ABSOLUTE LAST FUCKING THING THESE WIMMINZ WILL EVER ACCEPT.
To them this is total and absolute capitulation and being utterly broken to harness like a horse or a nigger slave, everything including death, is preferable.
Especially when, being wimminz, it comes to death, because it will be someone else doing the dying, so they can continue to sit there with the mental breakers chattering away and making no changes whatsoever.
Doubling down? You ain’t seen nothing yet.
======================================================
As an aside, PoF is going through the usual january dry spell, so I have been getting most of my action on the swinging scene.
As I have said before, the couples on the swinging scene are without exception some loser niggerz and his wimminz owner, and most of the single wimminz are fairly toxic attitude wise too.
What is interesting, and the purpose of this aside, is the single guys, many of them are straight out of the wimminz guide book to being a man, many of the forum posts are about what wimminz want, and the vast majority of these men are considered lucky if they get three meets a year.
Contrast this with me, who has a profile that does everything wrong, according to the forum posts on how single guys can get laid, I demand anal, I demand oral, I demand fisting, I demand bareback, I demand submission… I get loads of action, and 99% of it from wimminz who devote their profile to telling guys they are not a sub, safe sex only, vaginal sex only, and oh yeah, you gotta go down on me.
These are the wimminz alluded to above, the first ones to open their legs when the GI’s or SS walk down the high street the day the tanks roll in to town.
