Shades of a song from around about the late sixties / early seventies.
It is also a common refrain on PoF, “where are all the good men?”
and in shades of mystery theater I of course respond out loud to these insane, narcissistic and delusional wimminz profiles, “What the fuck do you have to attract a good man? you’ve had more cock than a hungry fox, you are waaaay past fertile age, because you are waaaay past fertile age nature has discarded whatever looks you once had, what the fuck else is there? Your wondrous personality? The pleasure of your fucking company?!“
and in other news the French and the Greeks are laying places at the table for the arrival of the Archduke Ferdinand, and the main course is the Euro, as toast.
“Balkanisation” is a word that has entered our lexicons (or those of us old enough to go to school back when schools actually provided an education, as opposed to turning out mindless sheeple) and yet it is also a historical word that came from fragmentation leading to war, and yet we are seeing the balkanisation of various regions, including, err, the balkans, and Turkey (the Evil Penis should comment on this) is feeling its oats.
It is no coincidence that our political leaders have rendered themselves unelectable, in parallel with our wimminz rendering themselves unfuckable, both, lest we miss the point, are STAGGERINGLY difficult to achieve, human nature being what it is.
In more local cyber news I’m am getting scads of hits from Black Girls On Line, at first I though this was due to my liberal use of the word niggerz (as opposed to niggers) but quite by chance a black girl I know uses that site and commented to me that in actual fact it was more to do with what others have written, that the great social experiment that has been performed on white family and social life was of course first performed on black family and social life, so in some ways the black chicks are the canary in the coal mine… they have gotten to the end of doubling down and are at the jumping out of 6th floor windows stage, which is what a wimminz in Greece has just done as her state mcjob just dried up.
Which brings us back to the PoF wimminz and unfuckability.
One of the reasons I like this particular black chick is she never bullshitted me, I knew right off that she was nothing but a hypergamy / gold digger / user in female form, and she knew right off that I knew, and I knew she knew etc.
There has never been the slightest hint of sexual anything between us, rather it is like being able to IM Goebbels, or Breivik, through a secret tor proxy that nobody can trace, sometimes you can have interesting conversations with a mongoose, just because they are a mongoose and you and not, and so you have a different take on the world.
She admitted that for wimminz EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY FUCK, it is a fantasy in their head, and the reality is therefore always different.. they know it is a fantasy, and the way to get laid is to not do anything to force the wimminz in question to confront that fantasy… after wards of course she will come off the dopamine high and brand you another player and shift all the blame on to you, the next stage in her fantasy life, like all the PoF wimminz, the see their lives as fantasy books, who knows what exciting shit will happen over the page or in the next chapter.
Which brings is to GAME.
You see I have known this black chick for some 17 years now, long before I met the psycho skank ho ex, and she said something very interesting in last night’s conversation, which went on until the week hours of this morning.
As I have said before, I don’t consider myself to have game or be an alpha or anything else, I am just me, and I know how wimminz work, even if I can get blindsided by wimminz that are too close to me… but last night we were discussing addiction, because she smokes cheroots, and I used to, so I smoked about 10 of hers, and I am an ex smoker.
Which of course caused her to comment.
I replied that in my experience;
- when you spark up, you get a steep rise in whatever, and then it tails off slowly.
- it is the steep rise, eg change, that you crave, so the second one is craved long before the first has tailed off to baseline
- so each subsequent hit is less satisfying, but more important to keep those levels topped up and not be tailing off
- this, I say to her, is addiction
- my secret is I know that even after not smoking for six months, I want that next smoke just as much as I want one right now, so beating an addiction is just a series of denial strategies, in my case NEVER BUY YOUR OWN, shades of the ants post a day or so ago.
- so in fact, me having the odd smoke, a form of self torture, is my way of testing myself and reminding myself, I am picking at a scab.
- the analogy I gave her is the alcoholic going into a pub and drinking an orange juice and then walking out, if you can do that then you are in control of the addiction, if you are afraid to go in the pub in case you weaken then it controls you, and you know it.
So she just looks at me for 15 seconds or so, and says “See, that the thing, you always did have this game thing, because you always did know who and what you were, and that is the game thing that makes the wimminz want to fuck you, they want some of that to rub off, and they know you are strong enough to not mess with their fantasy while they are fucking you.”
I had to raise my eyebrows, but I could not find fault with her argument, and then we got one of those moments where I justify spending time with the odd mongoose and shooting the shit.
This is a Ghana chick who has sucked and fucked her way through white men to make a crust, so she is like all mongooses smart and streetwise.
“This the problem with the politicians and the economy” she says
Now I am intrigued and perk up, I can tell this is going to be one of those valuable mongoose insights.
“These politicians” she says “they don’t have that game, these economists, business leaders, they don’t have game, and the people, the people they know this, so they people fuck with them, the people have no respect, the people lie and cheat the state”
“Like you” I say.
“Yes” she says “I lie and cheat the state, and the economy, and my employer, and my white boyfriend, I do this because I know I can”
and then we got the pure mongoose gold
“I don’t know I can because you know what I am doing and do not care because you are strong enough to protect yourself, I know I can because you do not want to deal with what I am, because you cannot protect yourself without changing yourself.”
“My white boyfriend, he wants this body, if he fix himself and get strong he will not want this body, and he think he will be alone, so he don’t fix himself and he fuck this body twice a week and I call him massa and he give me money and place to live, and state give me money, and work give me money, and when this body get worn out and white men not want to fuck it any more I go back to Shama and live like old queen, never work again, never go hungry again.”
“This what wrong with europe,” she says, “nobody got this game, so peoples and wimminz and everybody only interested in themselves, nobody to respect, nobody to punish them when they do wrong, everyone be lying and stealing and cheating.”
“No way to fix this” she said.
I stole another one of her cheroots and smoked it, and asked the mongoose a question.
“Why are you here kuku? I mean why are you here in this house with me, why do you come and visit me? We don’t fuck, I don’t give you money, here I am stealing your cheroots… lol”
She said “Because here with you I do not have to pretend, do not have to keep the face on in case my boyfriend walk in the door, in case my boss walk in the room, here I am me.”
By then it was 3 am and she left, leaving me one cheroot as a going away present, which I shall smoke shortly… as she walked out the door she said something that resonated within me, even though I have known her for the best part of 20 years.
She said she always says good bye to me, because she never knew if we would meet again, and that did not matter, but it did matter that our last words to each other were always… and she said something african that equates to fare thee well or vaya con dios etc.
Pure mongoose gold.
Because it struck me between they eyes, I do not say “Hello, how are you” to any of my skank ho PoF sluts, nor do I say “Take care, be good” when we part, it’s more like the “greeting” you give when you sit down next to a stranger on the bus or train, and again when you get up to leave at your stop.
Our bosses and politicians and leaders are much the same, ships that pass in the night and nobody gives a fuck…. just like my PoF bitches.
There is no investment, no weight, no importance given to parting, or to meeting again, and if we never see or hear from that person again, shrugs, so what, maybe in 2020 we can sit down and idly wonder, whatever happened to Steve Smith?
If there is no weight given to wanting to part on good terms, and hoping that if we meet again it will be on good terms, and you will have been well while you were away, then why bother with any of the artifice of civilisation? Why not just be a mongoose, or a Goebbels, or a Brevik.
and actually that is it, it is only the civilising influence of parting on good terms and hoping when we meet again all has been well with you that ever stopped us all from becoming mongooses or Goebbels or Breviks.
Where have all the good men / leaders / politicians / flowers gone?
They all died of apathy and neglect.
It is now a little late to be mourning their passing.
- A primer on apathy (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Feminist financial markets (wimminz.wordpress.com)
- Eeny meeny… (wimminz.wordpress.com)
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