Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

January 13, 2013

Following the revelations, his children cut off all contact with him

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 1:41 am

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2261427/Husband-tricked-believing-wifes-children-awarded-25K–bereavement-Devoted-father-deceived-years-DNA-tests-revealed-truth.html

January 8, 2013

Vigilante gang which ‘tortured and beat teen accused of rape to death’ was led by a woman

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 8:06 pm

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2259064/Luke-Harwood-death-Woman-led-vigilante-gang-tortured-killed-teen-accused-rape.html

January 7, 2013

Paris by air


I often find myself quoting the wisdom of St Francis to people, “Lord, grant me the strength to change the things I can, the serenity to deal with the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference.” because it especially applies to the wimminz, but there are two other bits of wisdom to impart.

  1. Some shit, just eat it and walk away, because life is too fucking short to fight every battle.
  2. Life’s a bitch.

You see the thing is, it probably doesn’t matter who or what you are, a wimminz, an employer, a guy walking down the street, a mugger, what probably does matter is something about me.

I am a lousy bet.

Wimminz, I am a lousy bet because I have eaten so many red pills I now piss and shit them, for employers I am a lousy bet because I have been through all the stunts that employers pull, and the beat goes on.

So all of you can shaft me for little things, see point 1 above, but getting me to commit to the point where I expose myself to the bigger things, well, good luck with that.

There is an article in the press today that our leaders are warning out that outlaw patch motorcycle gangs are making inroads into society and we the sheeple need to be on the look out for outlaw biker gang wars over turf for things like drugs and prostitution etc.

Being a lousy bet means I can handle these guys, I got nothing they want and they got nothing I want and we say “Hi bro” to each other and go all snake eyes and nod and go our separate ways.

And yes I know all about the criminal enterprises some patch clubs get up to to earn a crust, but I also know that in reality they are small time bit players, if ALL you look at is their ability to distribute drugs as a part of the whole drug scene for example.

The other thing about patch clubs is they aren’t exactly the invisible fucking man, mr incognito, the wraith…

There are all sorts of things the guy stood next to you in the checkout queue could be, off duty policeman, swinger, doctor, wimminz outreach co-ordinator, but if the guy stood next to you is full patch, you will fucking know.

Speaking personally (and I had more than one opportunity to prospect for true outlaw patch clubs) my big problem with it was the patch was a huge fucking target on your back that you wore 24/7, and the remuneration frankly wasn’t that good.

And then I saw other things, and while the temptation for the reader is to say yeah yeah anyone an say this shit, the fact is, club business is club business, so even though through circumstance I have been party to some of this, and could drop names, and could tell stories about outlaw chapters formed from member ejected from mainstream well know outlaw patch clubs  for being too fucking violent and out of control, and some of the shit THEY got up to, I won’t, because you don’t tell tales out of school, especially not to write a book or big yourself up.

Ultimately above the patch club there is the brotherhood, so the things individual chapters have pulled, or the things individuals have pulled, don’t outweigh the principle of being loyal to the brotherhood as a whole, or hanging your dirty washing out in public.

Nevertheless, there are things that can be discussed.

One of the things you can discuss is the fact that veterans returning from overseas conflict is something that periodically happens, and they are a different breed to the guy recruited off the street, so you get demographic and generational changes and swings in any individual club or chapter, and for me personally I always found it was the veterans who I got on with best, you could fuck up and get into a fight and literally two minutes later fuck it bro, cheers, swig a cold one through the blood and swelling bruises, and grin, whereas the ones recruited off the streets were always, to me, little peacocking motherfuckers out to climb another run on the ladder.

That was always the source of negative waves for me, the prospects and new shiny patch members saw me as an outsider, much much much less than them, and yet here are the prez, the sergeant, the enforcer all allowing me to turn up unannounced at their front doors, it was enigmatic and confusing for them, which I get, but it was only enigmatic and confusing because they did not have first hand experience of the real enigmatic and confusing things in life, such as lying in a ditch somewhere trying to fuck yourself into the ground while the lead spanged overhead.

So now we have the latest spat of foreign conflicts producing disillusions and disaffected vets returning home to a home that no longer exists and welcomes them, and some of these guys like the nam vets and so on will end up gravitating to the outlaw patch clubs, so suddenly you have groups of disaffected vets associating with each other… and if you are the big daddy state, that needs to have a bunch of people assigned to it…

So while I personally am not prepared to put that patch on myself, assuming they would have me, after all, as said above, I am a lousy bet, it also has to be said that the brotherhood never fucked me over, but the state did…. so if push comes to shove it ain’t hard to work out where my sympathies lie, and which group I personally identify with the most.

Which brings me to one of the janes, the one I fucked saturday night into the wee hours, it wasn’t constant fucking, there was talk too, and so here is the slim fairly sexy just in her 30’s babymomma and she starts talking about 9/11 and the two towers in “free-fall collapse” and building 7 which wasn’t hit by anything etc.

She knows she is “a lousy bet” as far as the state is concerned, because she knows like J Edgar and “un american activities” and witch-hunts, it only takes a stroke of the pen for her to become one of the undesirables, she doesn’t have to actually DO anything wrong, just fit into a demographic, like the returning vets who gravitate towards patch clubs, that someone decides bears watching and monitoring.

In the paper article that talked about these impeding immigrant biker club turf wars, the comments section was delicious, with comparisons drawn to Abu Hamza al-Masri, asking, tongue in cheek, if these immigrant outlaw patch clubs will be given council houses and state handouts and so on, like the other 850,000 illegal immigrants to the UK currently living here and not being deported.

Credibility given towards the MSM premise that these are all nasty evil criminal gangs involved in drugs and vice was approaching zero, or if it was above zero is was so what, when compared to bankers and politicians.

Contrast the song above with a comment I heard from a man who said to me “…of course, the last time I saw Paris by air, it was to drop bombs

As I have said before, the common misconception is that our leaders are any smarter or more competent at their jobs than the average droid in the geek squad down at the local chain computer store.

What people do not get is the danger inherent within that statement.

When you give incompetent people power, and when the wheels start to fall off the wagon, they always, always, always use that power to try to fix things, and they always, always, always, just fuck things up even more.

————————————————————————————————

We are hearing a lot in the news about gun control in the USA, and the random shooting sprees, and of course the MSM makes a point of NOT covering storied where the random shooter get shot by someone carrying, such as happened December 17th 2012 in San Antonio, before they can kill a mass of people and then get suicide by cop.

It occurs to me that you never, ever, ever hear about one of these shooters getting tooled up with their arsenal, and then going out to the local gun range to see how many people they can kill… it’s always a fucking school or similar.

Anders Breivic did this too, because the MAIN PURPOSE is always the same, to kill as many as possible, so obviously you go where the odds are stacked in your favour, and you do not go somewhere were it turns into a game or personal survival, who is the baddest badass before game over.

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

Following on with this simple logic.

If you wanted to be a successful big time drug dealer and vice kingpin, the last thing you would ever fucking do is state that all members of your criminal society must wear a uniform which makes them stand out in any crowd anywhere any time of day or night, which is why I said in read at the top of this, sure, there are some patch clubs and chapters and member who deal in drugs and vice, but they are small time compared to the market as a whole.

Ergo, attempting to associate them with impending turf wars for drugs and vice is yet more smoke and mirrors, if you gave a shit about drugs and prostitution you have to start with the police force, they are the ones who have to take the payola to turn the other eye while THE VAST BULK of these industries progresses.

But again, as said above, you have to be both competent at your job and intelligent to see this, and those in control are neither, no more competent than the drones in the geek squad.

Just because I choose to not personally become closely involved with patch clubs does not mean I am unable to tell when they are getting a bum rap.

The now dead Sir Jimmy Savile is being open called, without quotes, a paedophile in the MSM now, despite never having been convicted much less charged with anything, and lo and behold there are teams of lawyers trying to track down his allegedly missing millions, so that the alleged victims can get some compo… again, it is a bum rap…

Gary Glitter / Paul Gadd, another bum rap.

Not saying any of these people or groups are saints (and please do not try and draw any lines between me talking about Jimmy Savile and me talking about patch clubs in the same post) or anything even approaching it.

Am saying that those busy flinging the shit are the same in both cases, big daddy guvvmint and the MSM, and am saying that these people have previous form for getting it horrifically wrong, and making up out of whole cloth reasons and allegations that suit pre-ordained conclusions and end targets.

Even the janes know this shit.

And the incompetent leaders with vast powers that we have know that even the janes know this shit.

And THAT, my friends, is why you should fucking worry, and in the meantime do your best to avoid being included in any category that they deem needs special attentions.

January 6, 2013

‘I was labelled a monster and thought about killing myself’

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 7:05 pm

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2257950/John-Leslie-says-false-sex-claims-ruined-TV-career-left-suicidal.html

“Girls make the rules. No means no”


Sounds like misandrist hell? Sounds like something off a raayyyyype awareness thing on campus?

(disclaimer, I am going to be using the word WOMEN a lot as opposed to wimminz)

Maybe so, but it is actually the home / welcome page message of more than one local-ish swingers club… Now… I want you to think about that for a moment.

Girls make the rules. No means no.

This follows on nicely from the previous post, it’s a jungle out there, which also dealt with the whole swinging scene, because again the reality on the ground is never quite so simple or monolithic.

Jane49 is on the back burner, bo peep and her sheep style, jane50 just had a huge fight with her best long term girlfriend because jane50 blew her friends mind by telling her she knew I was fucking other wimminz but there was nothing she could do about that and how dare she diss her man (me) for screwing around, and jane51 just left after a night of raunch and is now asking me to arrange a threesome with her and another wimminz, any wimminz, of my choice.

As y’all know, I am in my fifties and don’t have a pot to piss in, but plenty of free time, and janes 49/50/51 are all within one year of 32.

Girls make the rules. No means no.

Well, apparently not if you are one of the janes.

So we are left with a contradiction, what I experience directly, and what some commercial venture swinging clubs use as their “brand message”…. so we can get some bullet points;

  • I was doing this shit before these individual commercial ventures opened.
  • I trust I will be doing this shit long after these individual commercial ventures close, though that is of course purely conjecture and wishful thinking.
  • Both they and I and the janes can all be considered subsets of the greater whole
  • THEY ARE COMMERCIAL VENTURES.

I think it is fair to say that the capitalised final bullet point is the one that carries the weight, if you are trying to monetise something “Girls make the rules” is a good policy.

Men make the rules. No means no.

Stands to reason, a new competitor swinging club opened by me with that branding on the front / home page of the website means it is going to bomb commercially, because as we have already discussed, the men in these “couples” are all niggerz, not men.

Note also it is always “GIRLS make the rules” not “WOMEN make the rules“, and so technically the opposite is “BOYS make the rules” not “MEN make the rules“… it’s another part of the bait and switch, it is girls, not women, who make the rules, and men, not boys, who follow the rules as laid out by the women.

These 4 words above are very important human language is nothing less than the communication and programming language of our species.

We have four possible permutations;

  1. GIRLS make the rules, MEN obey them.
  2. GIRLS make the rules, BOYS obey them.
  3. WOMEN make the rules, MEN obey them.
  4. WOMEN make the rules, BOYS obey them.

In just the same way we can say a=2 and b=3, so if a+b=c then c=5, we can and do do the same kind of math, or value judgement, with language, which proves it is a programming language for humans.

So lets look at the four possible permutations one by one.. in reverse order

4/
WOMEN trumps BOYS, women always have power over boys, women are mothers to boys, it’s not just a fairly obvious statement like water runs downhill, it implicitly accepts that there is a power differential and the women have the upper hand, which is not the message that is politically correct or acceptable.

3/WOMEN trump MEN, all red pill men know this is the reality on the ground legally, in theory the two should be equals, so again this is not a politically correct or acceptable message or phraseology for our programming language.

2/
GIRLS trump BOYS, again, all red pill men know this, so this is just the same as #3 but dealing with the younger, non-adult section of society, again it is not a politically correct or acceptable message.

The three above in programming terms all have SYNTAX errors, the individual items are fine if arranged in one with with one set of inter-relationships, but are not fine arranged in another way with another set of inter-relationships, even though in both cases the individual items are identical in every way.

1/GIRLS / MEN, our programming language is replete with examples of this being valid syntax, the older stronger male as protector of the younger weaker fairer maiden, etc etc etc ad infinitum… This is both a politically correct and socially acceptable syntax.

The only people this shit doesn’t work on is you and me brother, and we are not the target audience of a commercial venue catering to males who support women and then pay for admission to a venue where said women can fuck other guys, in front of the guy who is putting a roof over her head.

We have, literally, broken our programming when we took the red pill, now, what was perfectly acceptable code for most of our lives throws up regular syntax errors, we see the commercial cuckolding described above (syntax / sin tax… geddit? geddit?… oh never mind..) as a fatal exception, parameters out of bounds, divide by zero error, does not motherfucking compute.

We are as welcome in their programming environment as Stuxnet / Slammer is inside a large corporate IT department

Our prisons, our law enforcement systems and our secret family court systems are in fact nothing more than the anti-malware systems put into place to prevent our take on syntax and language from spreading, the rich irony is of course that our take on syntax and language used to be the same as theirs, until they recorded a false positive when scanning us and made us into the thing they fear and hate.

We already have DIRECT EQUIVALENTS to malicious software in law, in fact we had direct equivalents back in the days of steam… first it was just defamation and slander, but now it is actual “hate speech”.

Use of non approved human (programming) language can and will result in incarceration.

As Kevin Mitnick will tell you, everything he did in the 80’s and 90’s is doable today.

Now imagine him doing that today, those EXACT SAME ACTS, imagine how he would be treated and branded.

Now imagine he was not a US citizen.

Now imagine he is a foreign national raghead terr’rist.

Girls make the rules.

It is a line of code with approved syntax in our human programming language.

January 4, 2013

It’s a jungle out there


There is a lot of talk about the pinnacle of feminazism… articles like this (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2256850/How-feminism-blame-breakdown-family-Left-winger-Diane-Abbott.html), and suchlike, but I have long said that you have to go where excesses are not merely permitted, but celebrated, to find the pinnacle.

The pinnacle of AWALT can arguably be found in the swinger community, and within that community with that subsection that consists of cohabiting or married male / female couples that regularly invite extra males to fuck the wife in question.

At this point I really do wish I could post some pictures, but that would be wrong and inviting trouble.

So I am going to start by asking you to imagine a hamster wheel running at top RPM, but with the bearings and everything else shot, a huge final death wobble on, but still actually rotating at this point.

What you have in the swinger sense is the female of said couple above, but this is a female well past her sexy prime, overweight or fucking obese, time doing a hatchet job on her, has to book 5 guys to “come around tonight and fill me with cum, any holes u like” in the hope that one or two will actually turn up, and none do, and she does the same thing next night, going dogging up secluded hill, with the same results, then posts an appeal at midnight, anyone wanna come and fuck me, with no results.

Where the choices are book ten guys that you select from profile and pics and maybe 2 or 3 will actually turn up and fuck you, and none of them are after anything more than a pump and dump, or go to a club scene where you can get ten guys to pull a train on you, but you don’t get to choose who.

The days of buy me drinks all night and maybe I will let you suck my tits are back there somewhere with the dinosaurs.

Yes folks, the swinging world is the last secret refuge of the entitlement princesses, Conan Doyle style, and somewhere under the island / hidden valley there lies a volcano about to blow its top.

The 35 year old obese cum dumpster loses out every time to the 32 year old in reasonable physical shape who hasn’t yet slid that far down the slope, and that is the real volcano rumbling away under the island.

The entitlement pwincesses seeking validation are already sliding into the magma chamber, on the slippery slope of ever decreasing SMV / sexual market value, and by the time they get to the point where they drop the “I’m being picky because I can” bullshit and sycophantic verifications from the three sad dweebs they did fuck last year to the reality of having to go dogging to get some cock and taking anything that turns up to dump a load, it’s no longer a slide, it is free fall city.

Jane49 is on the back burner, as / when / if she wants my cock again she will call, nothing I can do to influence that, so nothing is exactly what every sane man should do, nothing about jane49 that is…. never ever ever ask her when you are going to meet or fuck again….

Pulling the bits you like out of Jane49 like GG tits and a juicy cunt and ignoring all the defects is like taking a dump and a piss in a pot of stew and expecting people to compliment the dumplings…  you either take a bowl or pass…

Jane50/51/52 etc serve no purpose except to substitute for jane49 while jane49 is doing whatever passes for thinking about as / when / if she wants your cock again.

In fact calling it Jane49/50 etc is misleading, better to use mathematical notation  such as N and N+1, so JaneN and JaneN+1 etc… remember it is a fucking jungle out there, and survival of the fittest means the fittest to survive, not those who can do the most reps with 25kilo barbells.

Meanwhile back on the island of the damned once you get your survival shit down pat you get time to kick back and observe, and what you will observe is that it is a jungle out there, JaneN and JaneN+1 are in competition just as red in tooth and claw as anything they were prepared as a species to hand out to you, ape man…

And you can always spot the other ape men, those who have not learned the lessons, on the island of the damned pwincesses, they are the ones cracking jokes like “She asked me to give her nine inches hard and make her bleed, so I fucked her three times and punched her in the nose” and the ones making observations like “so the profile text is full of shit about safe sex and no condoms = no play, and the profile pictures show her being sandwiched by two bareback cocks..” all of which goes down like a lead balloon and cues a storm of wimminz and their pet niggerz dissing him for oppressing other people’s freedom or some such shit, or having an attitude problem.

JaneN and JaneN+1 face a problem a lot like western economists with QE, or outsourcing, or offshoring, or any of the other shit they pull.

It is always a race to the bottom, and it is always a tiger that once you climb on its back you WILL stay there, because you don’t know how to get off and are too scared of the consequences to try.

Just yesterday alone while using the browse function, I came across two profiles that stated “no I will not fuck your dog and then you” or variations upon the theme of bestiality, which is a classic proof of the race to the bottom, obviously enough requests for this are floating around for these two wimminz to feel the need to put that in their profile, and those requests can only come about because there are wimminz with lower SMV who have already offered this to these guys… N & N+1 can only go in one direction.

And let us not forget, what we see here is NOT the depths of depravity, this is arguably the PINNACLE of feminazism, in the swinging scene where the excesses of the pwincesses are not merely tolerated, but celebrated….

……. the magma chamber below the island of depravity hasn’t done much more than pass some gas yet, we are still in reel two of the show, many years ago I told a young woman that the day would come when she would beg for the opportunity to suck some cock in exchange for a dollar burger….

I said it because I remembered some mestizo puta blowing a donkey while some truck drivers stood around drinking beer and laughing, the better the job she did the more coins they threw at her feet, and it was fucking COINS, not notes.

those days are not here, not yet, we haven’t started the third reel, not yet….

…. but… anyone with eyes and a brain only has to look around and see UNSUSTAINABLE write large everywhere, in my city the January sales have materialised, but the shoppers have not, not only are there empty units in prime locations all over the industrial estate, but in the lawyers and solicitors quarter of town there are now empty buildings and offices in the street.

The empty lawyers offices and empty shops in the city centre are more significant than the empty industrial units in the industrial estate in so far as they show how far the rot is progressing.

January 2, 2013

Easyriders, and falling in love with whores.


Back in the mid 70’s there was an English bike rag with a comic at the back featuring malcolm, a dipshit wannabe, and ogri, a guy with stubble, antlers on his helmet (helmet laws came in in ’74) and a Norvin.

It was good as far as it went, but across the pond there was a bike rag that went by the name of Easyriders, after the film.

Now before you go off one one, Bike in 1975 had fuck all similarity to Bike in 2013, assuming it is still in print, and Easyriders in 1975 had fuck all to do with Easyriders today.WTF-Mom

While the UK rag had a bit of irreverence here and there, mainly in the cartoon at the back, Easyriders back then was chock full of it from front cover to back… the bay area was a bit too far away to get to on my trusty A10, but the magazine was available if you knew where to look.

Looking back the things that stay in the memory are the Dave Mann centrefolds, the assorted crap from JJ Solari, and the assorted vitriol of Spider, now JJ was never a biker, but he could write some funny stuff and some of his observations were good, so anyway there is a skit in I think ’76 or so all about hookers, and how they classified the johns.

What it boiled down to was that according to hookers there were about six sorts of customer, once they got in the bedroom, and two of these were “ooh baby don’t we fit together so well” and “my wife doesn’t understand me but you do” only those weren’t the names given.

Despite all the modern “you don’t pay a whore to fuck, you pay her to leave” shit, what it boiled down to was four of the six types of customer were paying the whore for the illusion of companionship and intimacy, one of the others was the type who couldn’t get a woman without paying, and the last type was the one buying “no comeback” sex because they were married and didn’t want anything threatening that like the mistress turning up at work… I suppose you could have called this one the “pay her to leave” group.

The bit I didn’t get at the time, because I myself was too young and inexperienced, was that EVERY SINGLE INDIVIDUAL WHORE would be seen in six different ways, not depending on what she was, but depending in the class of john who happened to be pumping her right then.

You can be a john, and go to a whore, and see her one way, but to be a smart john you have to see the other five types of john, and how they see the same whore.

So you log on to PoF to try and find some pussy, and you read a profile.

Or you can be smarter, and use several websites, including a couple of swinger sites, and you see she also has a profile on a swingers site, with quite a different profile.

Or you can be a smarter and more experienced guy, and cross check and correlate the escort / whores websites too, and see her on there as well, with yet another different profile.

Sucks donkey balls if you only ever looked at the PoF profile, met her, and decided to see her regular like…

As someone who has been aware of this for a while, I have been looking for some rules of thumb.

Is she over weight? Does she like gangbangs? This sort of thing, but, correlation is not causation, how ever close it may follow, and over time I have only come across one reliable indicator of any kind.

The wimminz is question sees sex as an act, trying another cock is no different to trying another dress, and I have literally heard that exact phrase from these wimminz.

For sure, the more dresses you try on, the less each new one signifies, shiny, pretty, until the next one, and the last one means as much, literally, as the boxers I threw in the laundry this morning when I grabbed a fresh pair out of the drawer.

This is a recipe to get hurt, badly, if you are any of the four main classes of johns, e.g. any of the four main classes of MEN, who are seeking some sort of illusion of companionship or intimacy.

So tick follows tock and the clock and calendar rolls over from 2012 to 2013, and many of the other so called MRA websites are all HAPPY NEW YEAR BITCHEZ to the readership, but really it is much more welcome to the new boss, just the same as the old boss, because the inherent nature of the battlefield has not changed.. look at the tales of the English and German troops playing football in no man’s land in WW1, it didn’t mean shit because the next day it was back to the killing.

So I can sit here and cry in my beer and wonder why at this romantic time of year Jane49 hasn’t texted me for two days or bounced up and down on my cock for two weeks….

…or I can sit here and realise it is because she hasn’t decided to try a new dress on yet, and when she does she will call me, and the worst thing I can do in the meantime is call her like some lovesick puppy, and the best thing I can do is keep that production line going for jane50, jane51, jane52 etc.

One thing I can guarantee, no john is ever the first or only client of the whore he is visiting, and this is double true of all the wimminz out there, AWALT… without exception every single one of them has a string of johns who did the lovesick puppy thing, another lovesick puppy, NO MATTER HOW GOOD AT IT YOU ARE, is about as interesting to them as a 1995 fashion item…… like, wouldn’t be seen fucking dead with it.

So really all that is left in me is the pining for the fjords, wishing it were another way, but I might as well wish not only for the sandpile and toy cars when I was 7 years old, but also the innocence of the 7 year old, which was required to make those simple games so much fun.

That is really what I mourn, and what hurts inside me and all men, not the fact that AWALT, but the lost innocence within ourselves, back when we believed in loving girlfriends and wives and mothers of our children, not AWALT psycho skank ho’s

And so since the only other option is misery and I am a survivor, I have learned the lessons the skank ho’s have been so eager to teach me, jane49 means as much to me as the boxers I threw in the wash this morning, sure, nice and comfy and I’ll be happy to wear them again, but whenever they rotate back to the top of the pile of clean boxers, or never again, bin em and get a new pair, it really is no big deal.

Which is why I sit here and raise a glass to myself, to the wimminz of 2012 who had never done anal, till they met me, and the day I eventually persuaded them to do anal for me was the last day I fucked them, because then I had had everything that was new that they had to offer, and there are so many more pretty dresses to try on.

It is time for me to misquote Oppenheimer quoting the Hindu text….

Behold, I am become death, destroyer of wimminz assholes

Fuck it, it’s better hours than being a lovesick puppy.

December 30, 2012

Down in the sewers


Yeah, I’m listening to the stranglers again, 1977 was a fucked up year, Rattus Norvegicus was a product of that, and while there are those who weren’t in the UK at the end of the brief punk era and have grooved to this shit since, there is always as special unspoken camaraderie with those who were…  Stranglers2387creditChrisGabrin

… I was wandering down the street in a coastal town nearby in what passed for summer a few months ago, the usual crap, some dweeb in a citroen saxo in the traffic treating us all to his selection of drum n bass masterpieces, then the traffic stalled so he turned the volume right down, I’m thinking “cocksucker”, then hear the opening bars of “Sometimes” blasting out from an old silvery blue Maserati Bi-turbo that looks like it is mainly rust, yeah, the guy behind the wheel is a freak, we grin at each other and he whacks it up, I look up and down the street and see three other freaks, heads nodding to the riff as they walk, we see each other and give that grin of recognition and camaraderie, despite the fact that on the outside, to everyone else on the street we are all middle aged or older, straights, Grecian 2000 and a shit job, we recognise each other, it’s that freak sense thing that hollywierd often tries to capture in a film and always fails at.

But then again, I’m sure the same could be said for Sarajevo, or anywhere else or anyplace else in time and space, and the four other freaks and me would all have thought the same thing, 1977, doesn’t seem like 35 years ago babe, seems like 35 weeks.

Course, ’77 was 2/3 years after ’74/5, when things really did get shitty in the UK economy, and no fucker had any money, and when things like punk (not that the Stranglers were ever a punk band) found the right conditions to grow.

My current favourite fuck was born in ’79, so it’s all just fucking noise to her, and all the lessons we learned then about the economy and politicians are as real to her as anything Disney has done.

So people like her look at the high streets in 2012/13 and think wow, nobody is spending any money, nobody has any money, times are tough, and lyrics like “it’s only the children of the fucking wealthy who tend to be good looking” mean nothing to someone who has known nothing but being able to afford nice clothes and make-up and lotions and potions and visits to the hairdresser all her life.

In some ways she is not wrong, the retail experience, despite all the MSM media trying to hype it up, has collapsed in the high street, as my mother says, nobody is spending cash, nobody, not even for smaller amounts, and yet she is also very, very, very fucking wrong, because the new normal for “poor” is in fact staggeringly rich.

Many people, such as my bro, lived through the mid ’70’s and were poor, but they have never looked back since, and frankly they have forgotten they were born… oh sure, you can talk to them and they will go all oh yes I remember we used to do this, but it is a different life and not one they can apply to the present or future.

My current favourite fuck is in fact better placed than many, she could survive an economic downturn (by this I mean one STARTING now, where it goes downhill from today) but sadly she won’t, because her weekly food bill will remain less than her weekly cosmetics and potions and lotions bill, because you see the potions and lotions and cosmetics are all essentials, and this is by any standards a sensible and modest girl who often says “I’m not paying that, it’s ridiculous” for something in ways that agree with me 100%

Plus, she is insulated from other day to day expenses by way of having such things as the company car with the company fuel card, and claiming lunches on expenses.

She looks at me blankly and with incomprehension when I try to explain that the £150,000 mortgage she owes on her house, a thing that itself requires ongoing maintenance and expenditure and work, does not represent an asset, in fact the ONLY THING about her house that is absolutely certain is the £150k debt attached to her.

Long gone and forgotten maladies such as scurvy and tuberculosis are back, and on the rise, not because there is any valid medical or social reason, but because a Bacardi breezer is more important than a bag of lemons, and because conserving centrally heated warmth is more important than opening the window and plugging in an electric blanket….not just more important, but the latter options have passed beyond the ken of the average person in the street.

I know one fuckbuddy who has basically been as weak as a kitten for the past two weeks, all you hear is some shit about winter vomiting bugs and norovirus… you hear nothing whatsoever about being as weak as a kitten for two weeks is FUCKING SERIOUS, how the fuck do you think the flu pandemic at the beginning of the last century killed people…. you get run down you get weakened and suddenly 99 other things that previously you could have shrugged off without noticing get a foothold.

The fucking shits is still fatal in many parts of the world, because it really doesn’t take that long to run the body down to the point where it cannot maintain itself, much less heal itself, much less fight off anything new…

When ___I___ got it a couple of weeks ago it was fucking “man flu” and I was a wimp, but I went out and bought a bunch if lemons to make hot lemon and sugar, I bought grapefruit for breakfast, I bought a fresh pineapple, and I bought an inhaler / decongestant spray, and I kept the heating off at daytime and nights were spent with an open window next to the bed and the electric blanket on, 72 hours later I had progressed through all the symptoms and was right as rain…. now THEY have it, it is no longer man flu, and they have basically been indolent for 10 days / 2 weeks, and made no lifestyle or dietary changes to reflect their state of health… latest prognosis is they have no energy at all and could sleep all day…. quelle motherfucking surprise…

Maybe it is partly my thin blood from growing up in warmer climes, maybe it is the biker in me, but days of 10 degrees celcius and less and I have my nice warm woollen socks on, three layers on top (vest / tee shirt, shirt / sweatshirt, pullover . cardigan) and when I go out it is scarf and wolly hat (well I don’t have much fuckin’ hair left anyway) meanwhile everyone else, including the fuckbuddy mentioned above, is wearing fashionable clothes and is cold all the fucking time…. that or some twat from oop north walking around in knee length shorts and a tee shirt muttering about southern fairies….

We, as a nation, are NOT FUCKING PREPARED for an economic downturn or a flu pandemic or a major war, and these are PRECISELY the conditions REQUIRED for a society to be unable to avert such things, nobody is going to head these things off at the pass, any more than my fuckbuddy could avoid a little thing like “man flu” effectively making her bedridden during the holidays… so she will go back to work in the new year in a worse state than she was when she quit for the holidays… and the beat goes on.

December 29, 2012

The rise of the internet.


I was an early adopter, fidonet / bbs’s and all that good shit.

Back then we knew the MSM (main stream media) was all “push” bullshit, and we thought we were at the cutting edge of the revolution and the new way forward.

Then all the “me too” AOL‘ers came online and fucked everything up for everyone, and what followed was useful evils like google and pernicious evils like facebook and linkedin, the dream was dead.

And then… well… then a funny thing happened, the sheer mass of people online exceeded the ability of the corporates to steer and control it.

It is a literal truth to state that certain news items come to my attention via discussions on swinging sites long before I ever encounter them on a MSM news site.

Then, as stated here, (http://www.zerohedge.com/news/2012-12-28/what-america-really-thinks) there is the growing awareness that it doesn’t really matter who “they” are, “we” the great unwashed public, just don’t believe anything “they” say, or try to tell us, or try to inform us of, or try to educate us about, or try to sell us etc.

It’s not how we early adopters predicted things would turn out, not by any means, but this mass jaded apathy and cynicism is no bad thing.

“They” can no longer run any kind of article about divorce or the family courts or domestic violence and have a comment section that is not over-run with men saying it is all bollocks.

In typical bolting the stable door weeks after the horse has bolted fashion, the powers that be are trying to impose curbs and filters and controls on the bits of this new network that so far remain in their control, to whit, the internet connection from your house to the backbone and back.

But they watch what happened in north Africa and shit themselves, nearly three years ago now I bought a Samsung Galaxy S1 smartphone, I didn’t need no stinking internet, I didn’t even need no stinking 2/3g connection.

I didn’t need those things because I was carrying around a device the size of a packet of cigarettes with Star Trek capabilities, that would charge from any USB source, that would on demand operate as its own wifi hotspot and share files between similar devices, no need for swapping SD cards or bluetooth transfers, any fucking thing with wifi.

Three years later I have the third iteration of that device.

What I have, basically, is what we used to call sneakernet.

It was an old saying, never under estimate the bandwidth of a holdall full of backup tapes, and in actual fact it is as true today as it was in the dawn of the digital age.

Never under estimate the bandwidth of millions of people walking around with hand held devices that can exchange files trivially between themselves once they are within a few metres of each other…. sure, the latency and ping times are a bastard, but latency and ping times don’t mean a fucking thing when it comes to text based discussion and information sharing.

We knew that back in the fidonet / BBS days.

I was reminded of this by something my mother said a couple of days ago, my bro is literally on the other side of the planet, so he sends me an SMS message, and it gets to me in a couple of minutes.

When I was a lad a letter used to take two weeks to do that journey, par avion, (fuck it, it used to take three days to fly from London to Singapore, and we thought that was fast… it took 28 days by fast liner) and if that wasn’t good enough you could send a very similar message to an SMS, but it was called a telegram, and it cost a lot of money, and it still often took a day or two, or sometimes even more…. I was in Africa when a family member died, it was this time of year, by the time I got the telegram the family member had already been buried.

The last big fuckup we had in Europe was Yugoslavia, but as recent as it was, it was before the smartphone revolution, before Windows95, before “the internet” as the AOL’ers knew it.

Fast forwards to Egypt and Libya and even those populations with minimal smartphone market penetration and the revolution is utterly transformed by the ability of these devices to form ad hoc mesh sneakernet networks…

The gap between Yugoslavia and Libya is far far far smaller, technologically, than the gap between Libya and your average western school-yard today.

The genie is well and truly out of the bottle, you could literally pull the plug on ALL internet and 3G systems in the UK and while it would cause uproar, data would still flow, and while ping and latency would be atrocious, I’d say 8 hours tops for anything meme-worthy to transit from one end of the country to the other.

You can’t un-ring a bell, and you can’t put this technology away again once Pandora opens her box.

Samsung, for example, may have intended “bump to share” as a fun little feature to drive sales by allowing people at a social event to take and share pictures etc on the spot, but then again the internet was intended to route around damage in traditional switched networks in the event of a nuclear war, and we see how that turned out.

December 28, 2012

Noises


There are noises that the wimminz make when being fucked, and I am a fucking god at this shit, so I do NOT mean the ooh ahh oh god baby stuff that they ALL do… I’m talking about the noises that I can make maybe one in twenty wimminz make.

The little involuntary and entirely non-verbal squeals.

The little squeals that do not coincide exactly with your thrusting in or out or anything else, when you get these invariable it is some of the best sex you get, because she is into you in a big way, and then you have a positive feedback loop.

I’ve got a mate, he is back in the UK again now, broke, but about ten years ago he started to get into porn, then kinky porn, then extreme porn, but all in a very fringe / amateur sort of way, and while there was money involved he was in it for the kicks, not the money, so think private email lists and DVD distribution, not the commercial houses.

I can remember at the time we had a lot of discussions about the fact that the way he was working was, in methodology of distribution and revenue earning, pretty fucking close to kiddie porn, and they throw the fucking key away for that shit… and then they brought in a new law that made a lot of previously legal porn illegal, so matey departs to foreign shores.

He ends up in Bulgaria making bestiality porn, same business methods but now there is HD and the ability to stream shit from servers as torrents as well as posting DVD’s to customers.

Being western bestiality porn pretty much = wimminz + dogs, you have to leave it to the japs and south americans for the other animals in the menagerie.

So he’s back, this is about six weeks ago, and we are talking, and of course the talk comes around to a couple of the wimminz that regularly featured in his “work”, you have to remember that while I knew him, and a couple of the wimminz, I never actually got involved beyond that, so it wasn’t like discussing Die Hard.

His main squeeze, the one he went to Bulgo with, was a pretty thang, but like all young wimminz very self centred, I fucked her once and it was purely average, he said the same thing, but the camera did love her, and vice versa, and anyway they were pretty much an item,  and turns out it was at HER behest that things moved on to bestiality, and because she wouldn’t give it up that they both moved to Bulgo and started to do just beasty stuff.

So we are there talking and I look at him, because he has just told me about noises, this bitch, without fail, made *those* noises when she was being mounted by a dog, and he goes on to tell me that in his opinion that is why their “label” was so successful, this bitch was not just happy, but delighted, for all that stuff to stay in and not get dropped on the editing room floor.

Plenty of other wimminz came along and did one shoot or two or three, enough for a DVD, and they all made those noises too, but wanted them cut in editing, but of course they got copies of all the raw unedited stuff for their own use…. and enjoyment.

You have to remember, I knew the main wimminz we are both talking about here, I have fucked her too, and I am having a hard time equating this squealing bitch he is describing with the quite pretty but very self centred wimminz I knew, and who I saw him with socially when they were together and I’d visit.

I hadn’t really made the connection that there were some men, or some mammals, that could make an individual wimminz make those noises, but the majority wouldn’t, I guess I had sort of assumed that most of the guys who had been there before me had made them make those noises too…. and then a penny dropped, every wimminz I have lost interest in, but who has been available for me to fuck in an ongoing manner if I so chose, was one who did NOT make those little noises.

Of course HIS kick was once Rin Tin Tin had made her squeal like a piggy, she was up for anything HE wanted, the rest of the time he told me the sex with her was pretty much as I remembered it with her.

I’m kind of discussing this with the guy and so I eventually sort of wave my hands at him, and the flat he has moved back into here in the UK, and ask, so what the fuck happened dude?

Well, it turns out she was not just 50% of the “business” in terms of output, but she was also the draw for the other wimminz who came along and did one off DVD’s, and it turns out the money went the same way, it was always a 40 buck (always in dollars) DVD, split 50/50 between the “actress” and the house, the house being him, so of course all the expenses came out of his cut, and then the credit card companies started to get pissy, so he had to have legit companies owning less legit companies, which made customers more wary because they were buying a DVD from “Nasty Bestiality Inc” but credit card payments were going to “ACME Software Inc” of Turkey, and next month to “Roadrunner Mousetrap Inc” of Greece, which put his expenses up, to the point where they are barely scraping a living.

So what happend next? I asked him.

Well, turns out they met this guy who was holidaying in the area, they hung out for a bit, next thing he knows she is telling him this guy has sent her a one way plane ticket to France.

The kick, the guy runs a kennels in France, boarding and breeding, oh, and he has money too.

So long and thanks for all the dog.

By then he is so deep in the shit financially he loads up the car and does a midnight flit from Bulgo, last thing he does on his last night is take all the hard disks containing the production work to date and put them in a 45 gallon drum with a gallon of gasoline and a pile of wood and watch it burn while drinking zagorka, cos that shit is a criminal conviction and prison sentence in western europe.

All I can do is look at him and grin and say “shiiiit” and raise the bottle in a toast.

“Fuck it” he says, “it was good while it lasted”

the little noises a wimminz makes when she is REALLY enjoying the sex.

Thing is, he was right, if I run the VT in my head in rewind, all the sex I ever had where wimminz did NOT make those little noises with me is sort of blurred and indistinct and vague, and where they DID make those noises it is sort of blurred and indistinct but NICE and an undercurrent of them being pretty and sexually attractive and PWHOAR and all that jazz, but for those wimminz, I can’t remember much about them the rest of the time, when we weren’t fucking and they weren’t making those little noises.

Thing is, the thing he and I both missed, those wimminz who DID make those little noises with me, they were never any of the wimminz who pledged love and allegiance and wanting a long relationshit with me.

I’m still puzzling that one out, did giving them those noises make them more honest and less likely to bullshit me into a relationshit?

I do know this, my mate says by far his most popular titles were not the ones with the 2,000 buck camera, which they all had, or when he got the 2,000 buck lenses, or when he got the 2,000 buck editing software, they were when he got the 2,000 buck mikes and pointed them at the bitch’s face and cunt to capture those little noises in high quality, and overlay them synced properly with the squelchy cunt sounds, he also says the most popular scenes were those showing nothing but her face, nothing in the least porno about that, but the look on her face as she made those sounds, captured in high quality audio.

I haven’t seen those scenes either, and chances are you haven’t either, but I know exactly what he meant.

For some reason I cut to Independence Day, where they are uploading the virus to the mothership… those little noises wimminz make, they are the virus to the red pill mothership.

Actually it’s worse than that, the red pill mothership has code spaces especially built in, ready and waiting for just such a virus, in much the same way it works in biology.

Actually it’s worse than that too, because the wimminz was just as much a carrier as us, she had no control over what would make her squeal like a piggy, so the first time it happens she can either run from it, or towards it.

All I know is I am grateful for small mercies, I haven’t had to go down the dog pound to find a wimminz that could make those noises for me… I had enough fucking problems with just wimminz and me and a bed…. lol

That, and me never white knighting and defending the bitches from the consequences of the drives given to them by their cunt…. no responsibility without authority is my motto.

 

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