Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

January 22, 2014

Despicable moi

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 11:43 pm

You know the old adage about you can tell if a politician is lying, their lips move, and of course it will be no surprise to anyone on here that the same adage holds true for wimminz…

Well today I just had a phone call from a guy I know “virtually”, he is pretty much walking in my shoes, maybe two years behind me.

And yet we have both been presented with irrefutable (as in the kid with chocolate all over its mouth claiming it hasn’t eaten the chocolate cake) evidence of the latest squeeze lying, and both our responses were the same, calling them on it in a snarky fashion, and both the wimminz responses was the same, block us.

But because I am a couple of years ahead of him on this path, I see this as a victory, the crapola car I was test driving that was marketed as a high end coupe crapped out and caught fire, saving me money, and yes, the disappointment hurts me for literally 60 seconds and I’m over it and it is forgotten, he sees that too, but the hurt is more and lasts much longer.

Well, he rang me tonight after his latest bitch blocked him, to tell me that a penny has dropped.

This particular penny is that in increasing his “Wimminz-Fu” and becoming ever wiser to the ways of da wimminz, and realising that far from increasing exposure sooner or later, just by statistical chance alone, ensuring he comes across the fabled NAWALT wimminz, what it is actually doing is exposing to ever greater depths of profundity and universality and truth that AWALT is the only thing there is, and the penny itself is that this knowledge is itself affecting him, and as a result he himself is giving out some sort of vibe, and he is turning into something that the wimminz instinctively avoid, as they pick up on this vibe.

I say “Uh-huh… and…?”

And, well, he ain’t really happy about it, and I remember that feeling too, I also remember it from way back when I found out Father Christmas didn’t exist, and some magic went out of the world.

It’s called growing up mate, or did you think you could declare that AWALT, and there would be no further ramifications?

If AWALT is true, then it stands to reason AWALT are gonna dislike you intensely, if for no other reason than the simple fact that 99.999% of people who are thoroughly dishonest and unpleasant do NOT see that as a wonderful and fun fact about themselves, they see it as some piece of dirty laundry best not washed in public, and your wimminz-fu is saying to them, very loudly, I am a mirror that will reflect the true image of yourself back at you, so come and gaze long and deeply into your reflection.

Not Gonna Happen.

The whole thing (male / female relations) becomes some sort of absurd Shakespearian farce, I’m coming over all Russian in my jaundiced outlook, reminds of a Spitting Image sketch from years ago when Gorbachev had just taken power in Russia, he is sat at the table about to eat breakfast and tips the packet of corn flakes into the bowl, of course the bowl fills up with free toys, so he empties the whole packet on to the table, and there, in its own little special sellophane wrapper, is a single corn flake… Gorby sighs, and says “Not another bloody crop failure…”

Of course a nationwide crop failure, whatever the reasons, is a tragic thing by any standards, but the determination (in the alternate world of the comedic sketch) of the corn flake producer to still make and market the exact same box of product, even if they have to totally invert the original premise of one toy in a cellophane wrapper hidden away in a whole box of corn flakes, was humorous in its own way, and of course I can see echoes of it in the way da wimminz are now when they sigh and ask where all the real men have gone, while refusing to look in the mirror…

The past day or two I have been commiserating with a colleague at work, some wimminz at work lied to him about work to such an extent he felt compelled to make a complaint about it.

I tried to explain to him, there is an awful inevitability, and I have seen the process time and time again, two or three guys start a business, it does really well because they give a shit and have pride in their work, some point between 12 and 50 employees it has grown to the point where they employ at least two or three total assholes, the girl on commission who will make any sale, so the regular buyer who drops a thousand bucks a week, week in, week out, gets his order late, because the van is out delivering the three five buck sales the sales chick made to get her commission on the sale and new customer bonus, and if the company survives that and continues to grow, which is possible depending on how good the remaining employees are, it gets big enough to start in on the corporate bullshit, inter-departmental cliques form, and you get what my colleague had, a wimminz who lied to him when he questioned a work assignment, rather than look at it again and perhaps reverse her decision…

At that point there is no longer a winning strategy, there are only survival strategies, such as mine, stay low level, never go anywhere near the office, never give a fuck, it’s crap pay but money for old rope for all that, and minimal hassle, every step up the ladder seniority and wage wise is an exercise in diminishing returns.

In this environment, giving a shit about the end user / end customer / quality of work is fatal, just cruise, keep your head down, and get ALL the paperwork straight, and CYA.

You get a situation where the company wants to display the “ACME PLATINUM PARTNER” shit all over their website as a USP for the sales team hunting work from other corporates, so the company pushes 5 dumb employees to work their asses off to pass the exams, and then keeps them on the lowest wage they can and that the employee will stand for stacking toilet rolls, the skill sets aren’t actually USED, they are just required so the company can claim platinum partner status.

I told him, if *I* am going to study for exams, I want paying extra for studying, I’m not studying in the hope that as / when / if I pass the exams, the company will increase my salary…

Again we see the parallels to dealings with wimminz… do I like this state of affairs? Of course I fucking don’t, but there ain’t a damn thing I can do about it.

You have to let go, you have to accept, and you have to not care about anything outside your control, and adapt to anything that impinges on yourself, it is not a pleasant process, any more than throwing up poisoned food is, but for your own health and well being you must do it.

The guy who is two years behind me in my footsteps, I would not wish this path upon you, (or any other man) my brother, I would spare you the pain and the sorrow and the changes in yourself as you adapt and survive, but I fear that however unpleasant the path we walk upon is, all the alternatives are worse, much, much worse, and for what it is worth, know you are not alone.

 IF you can keep your head when all about you
 Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
 If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
 But make allowance for their doubting too;
 If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
 Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
 Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
 And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
 
 If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
 If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
 If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
 And treat those two impostors just the same;
 If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
 Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
 Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
 And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
 
 If you can make one heap of all your winnings
 And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
 And lose, and start again at your beginnings
 And never breathe a word about your loss;
 If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
 To serve your turn long after they are gone,
 And so hold on when there is nothing in you
 Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
 
 If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
 Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
 If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
 If all men count with you, but none too much;
 If you can fill the unforgiving minute
 With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
 Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
 And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!

December 5, 2013

Pinky + the Brain and AWALT

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

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

However.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dumb wimminz don’t need to think to survive.

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

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

Because it’s seasonal…

 

October 5, 2013

Mitch the cunt

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:59 am

Got a mate, his name isn’t really Mitch, but it ain’t a million miles away… he plays the swinging / fucking / dating sites too, though we tend to move in different circles due to the colour of his skin, or more precisely the colour of his cock.

Cunt made me choke on my beer with two little stories he told me.

First one is thanks to tineye, he finds that this chick he picked up via PoF, where she has one kind of profile, also has a profile on a fucking site, which says quite different things, so he says to her how about sticking your tongue up my ring-piece, and she starts acting all horrified and outrages, so he whips out his smart-phone, pulls up her profile on the fucking site, where rimming is listed as one of her interests.. what;s more it turns out that since he saw her last a few days before she has had a verification on the fucking site as the filling in a MMF sandwich.

He said her face ran through expressions like Hauser’s mask in Total Recall

Yeah, and then she blew up, cursed him every name under the sun and threw his black ass out.

So he was back to the grindstone and gets a message from this skank, and he shows me the profile, and it is all about how she fucking hates liars and dishonesty and shit so just be up front with her about what you want yadda yadda yadda, and then it gets to the bit where she mentions in closing that she has a husband who doesn’t know she is on a fucking site so she can’t accommodate and discretion is expected.

And the final line is “no blacks or asians”, and Mitch’s profile has a handle that starts with the word “black” and has three pictures of various parts of his body, all black… cos Mitch ain’t no milk chocolate type nigga, he is proper Nigerian black.

And he says to me, genuinely at a loss, what the fuck was I supposed to say to her? I literally have no fucking words, so I said the first thing that popped into my head that might put her off, I told her my profile was a bit economical with the truth, as he is actually a pre-op black transsexual.

Next thing he knows, she is calling him Master and worshipping him and talking about their future together, and bombarding him with messages and pictures etc, he tells me he is scared to visit that fucking website now. He is only partially joking.

I choke on beer again.

I guess it was a *lot* funnier for me because I know the guy personally and know the back-story etc. etc. etc, for example Mitch knows the whitey skank only wants his black cock because they see him as somewhere between human and animal and that makes their cunt throb, but for his part he only got into fucking white skanks because black skanks were even more mental and poisonous.

Mitch is my “black eye for the white guy” in shades of queer eye for the straight guy, in some areas, he sees shit I didn’t.

My part of the UK you can walk around and see almost no non white faces, I can go into town and back and literally count the non whites on the fingers of one hand, not so in the cities in the rest of the country, so my town is wholly unrepresentative of the nation as a whole and our cities as a whole, which is interesting when it comes to the demographics of the internet, whether it be a dating site or a fucking site, it all goes into the melting pot.

Except it doesn’t. the only black or indeed non white faces you find on a fucking site are men like Mitch, with the odd very rare exception that is female, and again it is count on the fingers of one hand stuff.

On dating sites the trend is not so obvious, but once your eyes are opened to it you can see the disparity.

It’s not to say that black / asian / whatever chicks don’t fuck around etc, they do, AWALT, but they don’t use dating / fucking sites like white skanks…. if you’re puzzling over why, to Mitch it is as obvious as the nose on your face, these sites are all run by whitey, and no it’s not “racis” he says, with a laugh, when the target it whitey.

Mitch has a mate who I have never met, he refers to this guy as the “Nigerian Eskimo“, guy spent a lot of time living and working trucking in the high latitudes of the Americas, mainly based in Edmonton and Calgary, and guys compare notes, and he tells me the Nigerian Eskimo was telling him if you want a truly fucking frightening experience get involved with all the freaks there living the new “poly” lifestyles and constantly updating /r twitter and their blogs…. he said it was like a lot of insane brains kept in jars doing a stream of conciousness vomit 24/7 and he likened it to an infectious mind plague, not the the surreality that you can sometime get if you wake up to 1/10th consciousness in one of your own dreams, but being 100% awake and lucid in and realising that you are living in other people’s collective dreams, with not a hind of conciousness or rationality anywhere…. apparently the Nigerian Eskimo eventually got so freaked by it all that one day back from a run he walked out the the apartment, left the door open, left all his shit apart from clothes and stuff in there, drained his bank, got in the old Caprice and didn’t stop until he got to Yuma, a year later and he found himself in the UK driving night trunking to mainland Europe and back.

Way Mitch tells it, the Nigerian Eskimo got seriously seriously freaked, as in seeing evil spirits and virally infectious memes spreading, they a’comin to get ya, and he (Mitch) used to laugh at this shit, but this last week, Mitch dunno any more, it don’t seem so funny any more.

Got another friend, was in the town he works last week so stopped by for a coffee and a chat, made me realise something, part of why I like my job is I am in a different place every day, almost never see the same site or the same people twice, but what I realised was that it’s been 7 years or more since I was in any kind of gig where I did see the same people every day, and that doesn’t just mean I’d forgotten how that was, it means I haven’t seen the changes the last 7 years have made to that environment either.

This friend is head of IT with this company, and he is talking like the Nigerian Eskimo, he can’t take it no more, it is changing and evolving, no longer what it was, no longer non toxic, no longer sane, no longer conducive to retaining sanity.

Now I have never met the Nigerian Eskimo, but it strikes me that him and this guy are like me and Mitch, on paper we don’t have shit in common, but on the sideband off the carrier where it counts, oh yeah, there’s all kind of stuff going on, plate of shrimp…lol

“It’s in the fucking can, that’s what you don’t understand” (you have to watch it all)

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September 4, 2013

Dating is a job interview.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 4:51 pm

Bear with me…

Take a look at the picture, imagine it is not a mirror image of the same girl, but two views of the same girl, your view, and my view.

You see a beautiful young wimminz, I see a filthy lying whore.Image10101

What’s the difference?

I have some data about her that you do not.

e.g. your opinion is based upon nothing more than a LACK OF DATA.

This is the basis of AWALT, all wimminz are filthy lying whores, no exceptions.

Now let’s say this wimminz is actually known to you personally, but not known to me personally, so you have some known data about her, specifically, and I have none, specifically.

Make any difference?

No, because YOUR opinion is still based upon a lack of data, whereas mine is based upon the fact that I have only ever found scorpions that have stung, and scorpions that have not yet stung, I have never yet seen a peacenik scorpion that I will let sit on my cock.

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

So here you go, you are a wimminz and you meet me, your first and major fuck up is that you do not view that process as an interview for a job, a job with one vacancy.

  • You think you can go trawling around a bunch of other potential employers, and I am going to sit here with the patience of a saint, just in case one day you might want to take the job.
  • When I say take the job, I mean of course turn up 10 minutes before quiting time, do your nails, fuck around on your iphone, and then demand to know where your fucking holiday pay is.
  • As / when / if you get an interview, eg meet me, which will only happen if you treat making an early appointment and turning up on time, eg as someone keen to get the fucking job, hearing that you had 497 other jobs that you quit on the day you got them, you know, because the boss was a fucking asshole, doesn’t really endear me to the idea of taking a chance on you and hiring you.
  • One previous long term employer that you parted with on good terms is the thing to aim for.
  • Like any other job, turning up with your womb turds doesn’t make you a candidate for employee of the month, while there is the danger of maternity leave for the single wimminz, in your case it is guaran-fucking-teed that there are going to be constant days off and early quits because junior has some lego lodged in his ass, plus, there is the danger of future maternity leave too.
  • Turning up with an unknown and un-checkable history doesn’t do you any favours either, I’ve been trying to fill this vacancy for 30 fucking years, and I have heard every variation of every story at least fifty times, you are not a precious snowflake and I don’t buy your bullshit excuses.
  • Expecting to get instant holiday pay, company expense account, directors car parking spot, and company medical and a promotion to CEO within 4 weeks doesn’t fly either, the job being advertised is cock and bottle washer and sammich maker, with the potential for advancement through the ranks, by becoming an invaluable employee.
  • Expecting, at the end of the interview, to be able to sign a cast iron contract guaranteeing you everything, but asking nothing from you, with no possible sacking offences, that I can’t get out of, isn’t going to make me think you are the next Tesla and everything you touch will turn to gold.
  • Having previous jobs as bukkake and felching queen and general 2 dollar whore and miss gangbang 2009 is likely to adversely affect your employability in a role that ultimately reflects upon the company and myself, ditto skank ho tats and piercings.

But, it is not all bad news…

  • You *can* take the cards on the table, ex con looking for a fresh start, willing and eager for an opportunity to shovel shit, approach.
  • The above approach doesn’t mean I see you as less, see the pictures above, you merely confirmed that data that I knew was there anyway, but, the reason you get the look in is you chose to not to try to bullshit me.
  • This approach better not end the instant the interview does and I offer you a period of trial employment, as many wimminz have found, the instant the no bullshit approach ends, so does the fucking job.
  • Being an overweight 5 isn’t a drawback either, I’ll get over firing your fat ass a lot quicker than if you were a sex bomb 10.
  • If you need extra, come to me BEFORE you go moonlighting.
  • If you call in sick to go moonlighting, don’t even bother coming in for your back pay… I already used it for your leaving party.
  • There are plenty of get rich quick con schemes out there, but this is a REAL job, with prospects measured in decades, it’s a steady living.
  • The more work YOU put in and the more loyalty you show the company, the better your long term prospects.
  • You can do a hostile takeover, but 3 seconds after your ass hits the MD’s chair the company ceases trading, the guy you just sacked took the customer base with him, 100% of them, forever.

You get the idea lay-dees….

AT this point in time the company has “progressed” to the point where merely getting an interview entails you blowing the MD (me) on the directors couch.

It may not be NASA, but a skanky ho like you ain’t even getting the URL of the fucking contact page from them, and no fucking way are you going to the moon, but at least this little wrong side of the tracks porn company has good capitalisation and a long term future ahead of it, which will put a roof over your head.

I find THIS singularly appropriate to post again.

 

September 3, 2013

Despicable me

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:54 pm

It is a thing few men grasp, and no wimminz will admit, and that thing is just how much they despise themselves.

Wimminz *know* their shit is self destructive, but unless you come along and wescue da pwincess, at gunpoint, against her will, then clearly you don’t care about her enough, and she will continue to drink battery acid, and either way, it’s all your fucking fault.

There is an old argument about nurture vs nature, but like so many things it like it doesn’t have to be either, it can be both.

You can have a pre-disposition to get lung cancer, and you can live in an environment that has lots of things that are carcinogenic.

The presence of both of these does not mean YOU as an individual is guaranteed to get cancer.

The absence of both of these does not mean YOU as an individual is guaranteed to not get cancer.

It’s a fucking lottery, some things make the odds longer, some make the odds shorter, but part of the game is you can never know your own odds.

Having said that, there are things you can take about 10,000 steps back from, climb a hill, look down from a different perspective at statistically significant numbers, and start seeing real trends.

I saw one (trend) when the iphone came out, a wimminz friendly feature phone that got the internet, suddenly wimminz had a portable cock finding tool, and hooking up with random wimminz for sex got dramatically easier.

Like the cancer shtick, you can’t pick an individual wimminz with an iphone and say for a fact she is using it to find cock, but, statistically speaking, you’d be a fool to bet otherwise.

Change the environment, change the behaviour…. sure, there has to be some pre-disposition, but the fool argues over nurture vs nature, the wise man simply observes and accepts.

Add sex / dating / swinging / fucking sites to the internet, you change the environment, and so you change the behaviour.

Add no fault divorce and award of the kids / house / car / alimony to the wimminz, you change the environment, you change the behaviour.

“Where have all the good men gone?”

Same place all the mammoths and dinosaurs went, environmental change / hunting to extinction / global warming / asteroid impact / choose your poison, doesn’t matter what is on the label, if it changes the environment that’s all there is.

When I was a young man in my twenties, it was only types like itinerant carpenters and carnies and spivs who would fuck borderline legal or not legal yet girls, and sit there with a shit eating grin when anyone said anything about cradle snatchers.

Nowadays I see whole rafts of niggerz, and wimminz, on fucking sites targeting skank ho single mommies with young teen kids, and yes folks, it is for the purpose of fucking said teen kids…. that shit has got a *lot* more common, despite the fact that the laws against it and punishments for it have apparently gotten much stiffer.

The reasons I have heard for this behaviour are new, 30 years ago it was “because they are too young to know I am a pervert, I tell em all women take it up the ass“… nowadays it is “because she is less of a cunt than her mother, so far…“

But when you change the environment and start dressing pre-pubescent girls in hooker garb, and shame everything that was anything of “traditional” male-hood, then what you got left is mini skank ho’s in training and no good men left.

Give a skank ho single mommy (and by definition, unless she is a fucking widow woman, she is a skank ho single mommy) a boy child and she will turn him into a mini beta niggerz, give her a girl child and she will turn her into a mini skank ho.

There are NO exceptions to this, there might be as individuals, but statistically speaking AWALT, so you’re a cunt if you think you will ever meet one.

I have had deep meaningful and honest talks, one on one, with *many* wimminz, all of whom agree privately with me 100% that they are on a self destructive terminal slide into the gutter, and every single one of them will have some crack ho type bullshit excuse for why they can’t quit the self harming behaviour.

Captain save a ho doesn’t realise the depths of depravity and despicable acts that she has already sunk to, she *knows* nobody worth a fuck would give a flying fuck about her, so anyone who professes to is truly suspicious, or stupid… same think to skank ho’s

Two numbers, A and B

A is the average number of men the average wimminz claims to have fucked, when speaking to a new man.

B is the number of these average skank ho single mommies who have made it clear to me that if I want to get all kinky with their pre-pubescent daughters, that is OK with them. (to be clear this is kerb time)

A is of course a lie, and low balled. You’ll often hear shit like 12 or 15, often less, it is a complete crock of shit of course, but nevertheless, A is what they claim, usually.

B is not a lie, it is direct personal experience.

B is not zero

B is not, from memory, double digits, it could be, but this is outright offers made to a man who was clearly already walking, in order to keep him / entice him to stay, god alone knows what it would have been if I was the pro-active one.

When I have these deep meaningful talks mano-a-mano with these wimminz, if they have boy kids I say that simp is gonna move out and never come back as soon as he can, and they look at me like I cooked and ate their pet hamster, but you can see all over their face they see the truth in my prediction….. and if they have a girl child I ask them when they are going to pimp her out, and they look like I wrapped their pet hamster in cling-film (so it didn’t burst) and fucked it to death, before cooking and eating it, but you can see all over their face they don’t wanna get into that with me, cos they know they are raising a mini slut… skank monkey see, skank monkey do.

Which brings us right back to the beginning, and the subject in question.

Because of the ever present blue pill wish in 100% of all men that they had found “the one” and lived happily ever after.

You don’t find penguins in the Sahara.

You *used* to be able to find hippos in the River Thames, but, you know, the environment changed, the glaciers moved, now you just find condoms and turds.

Thinking otherwise is like coming from a long line of men who died of lung cancer, and having an 80 a day habit, and sparking up another one off the embers of the last.

This bitch you just met, you just don’t know enough about her yet, the only important fact is she lives in the same fucking environment as all the other lying skank ho sluts, do you feel lucky, punk, well do ya?

 

July 30, 2013

What men want

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:28 pm

I have a lot of readers who are wimminz, some of them know me in real life.

They seem to all have an issue with how I talk about wimminz, and insist I am talking about women.

I used the spelling wimminz deliberately, just as I used the spelling niggerz deliberately.

Being born with a cunt does not make you a wimminz, you *could* have grown up to be a woman, but being born with a cunt in a country where all the laws are so lopsided in wimminz favour, and have been for so long it seems perfectly normal, means that it is extremely likely you will become a wimminz.

Again, AWALT isn’t an insult, it’s just an observation, all bored dogs left cooped up at home will eventually start chewing on shit, it is their nature, it is not a *value* judgement or a criticism of dogs to note this and be aware of it.

If you want to be a woman and not a wimminz, then you have to give up all the new normal automatic privilege, and you then have to earn men’s respect and loyalty by being 100% consistent in showing them respect and loyalty, and *earning* their trust.

I actually do know a handful of genuinely good WOMEN, the problem is that even if they are single and available, which is bloody unlikely, they *still* have automatic legal advantages over us men, advantages that they *cannot*, in Law, give up, any more than I can give up the right to protection from murder by paying someone to end my life in a manner of my choosing.

Voluntary euthanasia for the terminally ill, there is literally nothing the one who wants to die can do to give legal protection to the one at whose hands they wish to die.

ATIPALT, all terminally ill patients are like that.

It doesn’t matter how high or noble your motives are, how much you love the terminally ill person, or even if you are just in it for the money from a purely above board business perspective, you are literally gambling with the rest of your life, liberty and freedom.

Why? Because the only people who give a fuck about the anti euthanasia laws are those who want to end it all and cannot without help.

It doesn’t affect anyone else.

What men want is to be treated as innocent and decent and respectable, until and unless they themselves as individuals have actually committed acts that prove that they themselves as individuals are not innocent or decent or respectable.

Laws making wimminz a “protected species” didn’t actually make a blind bit of difference in the positive to wimminz as a whole, any more than anti racism laws improved matters for blacks, all it did was allow all the niggers to play the fucking system and fuck it up for everyone.

People claim “You cannot legislate morality”, and they miss the point *utterly* the *instant* you attempt to legislate a particular point of morality, what you do is;

  1. utterly destroy that moral principle for *all* peoples
  2. create a whole new slew of fucking parasites living off this new and pernicious law

I have a friend, female, potentially a good woman, she has a very small child, and this child is simultaneously being granted state benefits for being “gifted”, while also being, and I shit you not, given speech therapy, for having far too large a vocabulary for their age, and as a result not enunciating each word clearly.

This female friend and mother feels much the same way I do about my absent kids, they are not my property, but the property of the state, because she feels that she cannot resist these various agencies involvement in her own child’s upbringing.

I shit you not, the state has to intervene, because in the opinion of the state, this kid knows far too many words and has a far better grasp of language that it should.

There was a science fiction book about this, where the physically able bodied had to wear devices that crippled them, so that they were brought to the lowest common denominator of equality with the lame and invalid and handicapped.

Truth is stranger than fiction.

Frankly, in a different world, despite her chequered and less than salubrious history (not that I am claiming to be pure as the driven snow…lol) this is the kind of woman I would want to marry and have children with.

But, it is not a different world, it is this fucking world, where that is impossible, because I am a potential paedophile and rapist and wife beater, and the blend of our DNA will produce offspring that require government intervention because they are neither fucking retarded nor physically obese, and the wimminz who are left, they are like the bored dog left at home, it is not in their nature to rise up and throw off this yoke of mass oppression, that was a man’s job, so the wimminz are Neimoller’d.

The only ones who *are* winning are the usual suspects, all living off the state teat, while not only producing nothing of value, but producing nothing but poison, pissing and shitting in the river upstream of everyone else in society.

It just so happens that at THIS stage in the game, most men either are a terminally ill patient, or know one intimately, while most wimminz are neither, and still benefiting from the system overall, even the ones who are told their kids have too great a vocab.

They may *want* to step out from the comfort of the state tit and work and support themselves, but is a big and scary thing for them to do, to voluntarily walk away from the comfort blanket and financial support.

They drink from a poisoned chalice.

What men want, they aren’t going to get, so they are quite happy to sit back and watch society as a whole go down the shitter, good riddance to bad rubbish.

On an *individual* level, some men will lend a hand to other men, or sometimes the odd woman or child, but only if they have been convinced, over time, consistently, by that individual man / woman / child’s behaviour and actions that that particular individual is worthy of the effort, assuming it can be spared.

As DMJ says in The Insanity of a Hamster-Run Mind, an independent woman is a thing to behold, but just calling oneself independent does not make it so, that makes you a wimminz.

An independent man is a man, not a niggerz.

 

February 4, 2013

BBW – Blatantly Bullshitting Wimminz

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:56 pm

While I am the first to admit to, and complain of, the sort of drop down list or radio button choices presented on many websites, thinking personally that none of the available options are correct, and then choosing the least wrong one… there are limits…

So for example being in my fifties I can no longer claim to be “athletic”, on the other hand I could still get into the trousers I wore at 16 as my waistline has not changes, so “slim” it is, even though I don’t consider myself slim, but the next one up, average, isn’t for me either, I only have to look out the window to confirm this.

Back in the seventies a D cup was a fairly big tit, and even then everyone, men and women alike, knew that cup size = tit size, so a 36-24-36 C cup and a 36-24-36 B cup were notably different.anya_001_p_078

But then whatever happened, put it down to processed foods, sedentary lifestyles, cosmetics and lotions and pills, whatever you like, body sizes have been growing, and with them tit sizes.

Late last year I was with a chick for a while, she was what you would call a “fat bird”, there was fat everywhere there shouldn’t have been, but she was young enough and fit enough that none of it had yet been affected by gravity and started to sag, so it wasn’t revolting, it was more cuddly, but the main attraction was GG cup tits. (the pic above is GG cup)

GG cup is significantly bigger than the human head, even on this fat bird they looked massive, frankly if she had been 36-24-36 they would have looked freakish and “uncanny valley” and quite unreal and totally photo-shopped or CGI‘d

The interesting thing about the human head is it is the one part of the human body with the least variation in size across individuals.

So there is this other bitch on the swinging site with, she claims, a pair of GG’s, so I look at her profile pics, and her tits are fucking MAYBE half the size of the girl I was banging, while her body was at least as big, plus, it had all started to sag south with gravity.

The chick in question MAY have been an E cup, so technically I can let the BBW thing go, yeah, she is a Big Busted Wimminz (no, it NEVER meant Big Beautiful Wimminz), but she is a fat bitch BBW.

So I get a wink yesterday morning, from a self described BBW, right away I am suspicious because it is the usual fat bitch photo composition, head and shoulders and bit of cleavage and not much else, but what the fuck as she sounds kinky enough, so I’ll play along for a while.

First thing I says “babe, send me some pics that show all of you, not just that stuff on your profile pix”

Nobody who has been reading this blog is in any illusions that wimminz can’t wait to send nekkid porno pics of themselves to a prospective cock… so time passes, and with each passing hour, we are still doing the odd text, I am still asking where my pix are, she is still making excuses about being busy, so with each passing hour I am revising upwards the probable land whale factor.

Eventually the pic arrives, and I will spare you the trauma of sharing it here.

The tits *may* be D cup, but it’s hard to tell because really they are just sagging and flabby and resting like deflated balloons on a beach ball, the upper torso is a triple wide rear slick of pink blubber, but it’s got a flat or it’s all distorted like a dragster slick, there is a fold that goes where the belly button would normally be, and this fold wraps completely around the body as far as I can see from the pic, if you are thinking of the gap between a close spaced pair of rear duallies you’re on the right track, and so we move south to what is traditionally referred to as the spare tyre, more double wide flabby pink slick, and this also hangs gravity style, I presume there is a cunt under there somewhere, there is no way to tell, there could be 8 inches of swinging cock and it would be concealed behind the drooping blubber.

Under this are two “relatively” slimmish legs, but the skin of the left and right legs is touching in a solid mass all the way down to the calf, about 12″ off the ground.

You know that feeling you get when you just fucking KNOW what the other person is expecting you to say…

I can tell, I am supposed to say something nice, something complimentary, something supportive, and while her body is big enough, so is Canada, that don’t make it easy to find nice things to say about it, when you were hoping to get transported to BC is summer, and you got transported to Sudbury, post apocalypse…

“You’re a fucking fat bitch innit” I say, because she has rang me to chase up the compliment, because it has been several minutes of silence from me, no texts no nothing

This doesn’t go down to well, so I try to resolve the issue by asking her why she eats so much yet also clearly has so many issues with her own body image.

Suddenly all trace of the submissive slut disappears, to be replaced with a whiny shouty arrogant entitled fat bitch, which coincides with the CIA trying to hack my phone and causing the call to be dropped…. >;*)

I am hesitant to say that all fat bitches have a severe fucking attitude problem, because I might thus give the impression to the less experienced men out there that slim wimminz are NAWALT, and that simply ain’t so.

What I am saying is that in my experience all fat bitches do not JUST have all the AWALT that all slim wimminz have, they have extra helpings of that too… worst of a bad breed as it were.

I’m reminded of a joke from my youth, when there simply was not the obesity epidemic that there is today;

Why did God make fat people smell?

So blind people could hate them too.

January 13, 2013

That’s another fine mess you’ve got me into

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:01 pm

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;

  1. they think they are smarter than you, and so what you say is wrong
  2. 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.

January 4, 2013

It’s a jungle out there

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:54 pm

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.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:30 am

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.

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