Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

December 26, 2013

Lez be friends

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:25 pm

I’m noticing something, increasing numbers of wimminz who, after spending years shitting on their own doorstep and moaning about where have all the good men gone, are turning to lesbian relationshits, for a bit, at least.

If you want to know how bizarre this is, swap the roles, loads of single guys who can’t find a decent wimminz starting to have homosexual relationshits with other guys…. I can’t get any cunt so I’ll try sucking some cock… does not compute.

…..

The mind is a funny thing, shit goes in, and is apparently buried and forgotten, and then years later it surfaces out of nowhere, and so it was on Christmas Day visiting some rellies that a cousin who I have no time for anyway tries all the false bonhomie shit with me, it falls on stony ground so he attempts to do what I suspect was a bit of shaming language, as he is there with his girlfriend, and aks me when I am going to get myself a woman.

It just surfaced from somewhere in my mind and popped out, and the first I was aware of it, I had already said it, so I am stood there mentally reviewing where that was buried, and looking at the shocked and appalled faces on the rellies, and finding nothing that needed to be added.

“Why should I look after another man’s daughter?”

It’s actually a very good question, like “What’s in it for me?“, and very good questions require very good answers.

Before I get into the answers, the reason I am a single guy is simple, the question and answers are in many ways like buying a car, you look at what is on offer, you look at the terms, and you look at the price, and of course both buyer and seller must do this.

As a “buyer” I will be the first to admit that I am not such an attractive buyer as I once was, but I am willing to negotiate fairly, the problem is, the lots are full of used up beaters with sellers asking Bugatti prices and not being willing to negotiate or be realistic.

So, the good question.

Why should I look after another man’s daughter? and What is in it for me?

  1. Wimminz have a fertile period, so if kids are on the agenda she better be in the fertile period.
  2. Wimminz should be nearer the beginning of that fertile period rather than the end of it… the nearer the end, the less she has to offer.
  3. Wimminz who have used part of that fertile period to have kids by other guys, well, that reduced your value too, I don’t need to explain why.
  4. Wimminz who are basically at the end of that fertile period, eg the big 4 0 that is a whole range of values taken off the table for good.
  5. Even if the wimminz is still fertile, I am in my 50’s, plus, I already have (at least) one son, which takes care of the procreation urge, so speaking frankly the appeal of becoming a dad all over again in my 50’s isn’t that great…
  6. So basically the whole fertility / procreation / babies thing, which was and always will be a huge part of wimminz allure, is pretty much rear view mirror stuff.

OK, so what else does a wimminz have to offer me?

  1. Sex is the obvious one
  2. But, there is a whole load of other non sexual stuff that would tempt me as a buyer, giving me a bath, giving my shoulders a rub, making me a coffee, making me a meal, tidying house,  they are all things that I like and would genuinely appreciate.
  3. I’ll put this one down anyway, it would be nice to be genuinely loved, appreciated, respected, and I said I’ll put it down anyway just to be honest and complete in my list, not because it is a thing that there is any hope whatsoever of actually finding in the wild as a living example… dodo territory this.

And for my part.

  1. I can accept you ain’t 20 no more
  2. I can accept you are overweight
  3. I can accept you have baggage (but baggage be the opposite of dowry, it makes you less attractive)
  4. I can accept that in reality you are probably crap at 99% of the things you do

See, I may still be fertile in my 50’s, but it is plainly obvious that me in my 20’s was more fertile, more virile, more healthy and the real biggie had an extra 30 years of potential… sure, I have more experience now, but I am doing the salesman thing, so I accept that wimminz that I can expect NOW also have less potential than wimminz I could expect 30+ years ago.

My problem, my question, is that the wimminz are not accepting of these facts, the wimminz are not, ever, under any circumstances, going to do any honest self appraisal and say, you know what, he may not be George Clooney, he may just be a diesel fitter for a broke down bus company, but he is working honest work for 40 hours a week for that 300 bucks takehome, and he don’t have any bad habits like drinking hard liquor or gambling, and I can rely on him for the next 20 years to keep up his end of the bargain… I’ll grab this guy while the grabbing is good.

When the “what’s in it for me?” question is answered with;

  1. Being lied to
  2. Being lied about (false accusations and being slandered to others)
  3. Being robbed
  4. Being accused of shit you ain’t done… (yet, but are getting sorely fucking tempted to, may as well do the crime you’re being accused of all the time)
  5. Being treated with contempt
  6. Being disrespected despite the many things that you do that should earn respect, starting with bringing home a fucking wage every week.
  7. Being refused sex
  8. Being cheated on
  9. etc etc etc and you don’t get just one off this list, you get most or all.

You get like, Bitch, and you want me to PAY to join this exclusive club????? WTF… When I could like, NOT have to put up with all that shit, simply by NOT making any effort to join that very expensive club?

The question was “what is in it for me?” and all you have done is tell me “what AIN’T in it for me…”

Where is the fucking incentive?

Excuse me for limiting myself to test drives, I have as much intention of actually buying at the price you want and you have of actually delivering all the sales shit written on the windscreen in soap…   think of me as one of those people with no intention of buying who visits houses for sale as a day out…

I am being one squillion per cent fucking serious here.

We are a scant few days away from starting a new year, 2014, and the future is unknown, what POSSIBLE fucking incentive or attraction do you think there could possibly be, under any circumstances whatsoever, so start filling in my 2014 calendar right now with entries about being lied, to cheated on, disrespected, refused sex, and constant daily entries about 50 bucks here are 20 bucks there and 75 bucks over there for shit I would never have any use for and for shit I will never see again.

I’ve been around, I have loaned heroin addicts money, and some of them paid it back, I have loaned alcoholics money, and some of them paid it back, I have loaned co-workers and acquaintances money, and some of them have paid it back.

There is only one class of person that I can honestly say in my entire life not one of them ever paid me back, in full, in cash, the amount loaned, and that is wimminz…. the few (literally maybe two my entire life) who did it the first loan, failed on the 2nd or 3rd.

I’m OK I won’t loan or spend money I can’t afford to never see again, and I see it as a test, a cheap test, if that person has any integrity.

But back to the calendar for 2014, why would anyone in their right mind want a calendar filled with that shit???

Possibly if it also said “January 1st, 12 month contract in Afdiggastan in US air base, salary US$1,000,000 paid monthly tax free in advance.”

But not if it said, in shades of Monty Python and the 4 Yorkshiremen, “Paid boss $500 for permission to come to work again this week…”

Which is the kinda “deal” the wimminz are offering when I ask “What’s in it for me?” or “Why should I look after another man’s daughter?”

You have to be taking the piss, either that or it is one of those Eureka moments where previously you thought you knew all about insanity, but some new example comes along and you COMPLETELY fail to model the mental processes that must be at work between INPUT and OUTPUT to connect the two, and you realise that everything you thought you knew about insanity was wrong…. and I mean, either way, either you are taking the fucking piss, or you are fucking looney tunes, either way, no sale….

If you think that is all fucked up, how about how fucked up you have to be to give one of these wimminz a fucking JOB….

I mean, seriously…. same hamster wheel at work here…

I can avoid the cunts in my home, but in order to buy product from your company and make you richer, I am forced to deal with wimminz whom you have employed?  No thanks…. not while there is an alternative self employed guy down the road…..

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

Now, I have mentioned before, that deep down, in fundamental nature, men and wimminz might not be that different, and that modern wimminz are just a product of an environment in which they can do no wrong, never suffer consequences, and are always protected.

This is a true story.

Nearly 50 years ago, my father left his wallet, full of cash, in a bar, the bar was called The Hub, the town was called Bulawayo and the country was called Rhodesia. It was the first time he had been in that bar, he was not a regular, or known, or with any regulars.

About 20 hours later, well aware that he had lost his wallet, but in some bar in some town at some time after the xth beer, so no details, he goes to light a cigarette, pats his pockets and pulls out a small book of matches, and there on the cover is printed the name of the pub…

He finds the bar, walks up to the barman, to ask if there is any chance they know anything about his wallet… Here it is Sir, one of the “boys” (which means black guys waiting and wiping tables and shit) found it at your table after you left last night.

Not one single thing or note was missing.

The “boys” weren’t slaves or property, but the slightest sign of dishonesty and the instant sack, get the fuck out and never come back, and fuck your wages.

If you were to go to that same region today, the white man no longer rules, and a black man who never even owned a bicycle can accuse you of stealing his bicycle, and into jail you will go, until you pay off the police and the black man etc etc… they are “boys” no more.

The same people, LITERALLY, not just the same race and the same region but the same fucking TRIBE, but change the environment and the rules (and leaving aside utterly questions of racism and colonialism and equality etc) and you go from not daring to steal anything from another man’s wallet, even if he got drunk and forgot it, even though in temptation terms it means about a year’s salary just sat there saying take me….. to accusing you of stealing something that never even existed, to get some free money.

—————————————————————

Going to Zimbabwe in 2014 and appealing to the better nature of the kaffirs is like living here in the west in 2014 and appealing to the better nature of da wimminz.

It’s really only a question of time before you see the inside of a prison cell and one way or another you get some personal wealth extorted.

What are you going to put in your diary for 2014?

Far from it being too early to plan, 2014 is almost upon us, now is the time to plan.

October 25, 2012

Whores charge, sluts fuck for free, and barn find cunt

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:47 pm

The title is something I always repeat to myself like a mantra after pumping and dumping a slut, it is important because you need to reaffirm, not so much what wimminz are, but the categories into which they can be put, at every opportunity.

Someone asked me a while ago, “what’s the best way to ensure a wimminz goes away after you pump her?” and I sort of dismissed the question by saying that that was indeed the 64 thousand dollar question.

But the answer to that question is often very simple indeed;

  1. demonstrate that you can read her like a book
  2. prove this by giving her the best night’s sex she has ever had

Now to a guy you’d think giving a wimminz the best sex she ever had is a pretty much guaranteed to bring her back for more, the next night, and the next night, etc etc

To the wimminz, however, what you have done is the equivalent of visiting the hick in the country and finding the priceless 1922 Bugatti in the barn, wow, suddenly it is a treasure trove.

However, even the most inbred banjo playing red necked motherfucker of a hick, having sold the barn find 1922 Bugatti, does not look at the wreck of the ’47 John Deere model A sitting next to where the Bugatti was, and think that is also worth a million dollars….

To the wimminz however, the old tractor is worth just as much as the old Italian car, after all, both were sitting in her barn, therefore it is her barn that is bestowing the value on these things, not that any of these things might have their own individual and unique value of their own.

So to the wimminz when you gave her the night of best sex she ever had, you showed her the Bugatti in the barn, the barn being her cunt, so now she figures that there is no way you can ever top that, you already showed her the Bugatti, so if there are any more Bugatti’s in that barn, then you are the least likely person on the planet to find them, you peaked.

Instead she will embark on a desperate and frenzied search for lots of other guys, hoping they will also be able to find priceless Bugatti’s in her cunt.

They won’t, of course, they won’t be proving that they can read her like a book by giving her the best night’s sex she ever had, they will be what she had as her staple sexual fare before you found that priceless Bugatti in her cunt.

By then of course, she has lied to you, she told you she was visiting granny’s grave when she was desperately fucking anything that moved, hoping to find another Bugatti, and some part of the bird brain registers the connection between you being able to read her like a cheap trashy book, and your ability to find that Bugatti in her cunt, and the fact that she basically lied to you, thinking she was being sneaky and would be able to find a string of other guys, all of whom could find priceless gems in her cunt, but hell, that didn’t work out so good.

Admit she fucked up and come crawling back to you for more? Get fucking real.

You can read her like a book, remember.

Plus, there is always the problem that you already found the Bugatti in her cunt, and nobody else found anything except some old cum, so maybe there is nothing of value left in her cunt to find, even for someone who can read her like a book like you can, and THAT would be a real downer for her.

Guy’s, being practical creatures, may get item 1 above, read her like a book, easy enough, OK, AWALT, she is a filthy lying skank ho slut, gottit… but item 2, how am I supposed to be the best she ever had?

That’s actually dead easy, and goes hand in hand with her knowing you know item 1 well enough to read her like a book, she only has to believe that she is in for a sexual treat par excellence for it to come true.

This follows on from cock pics, sure there are ways to frame the pic so the same cock looks bigger or smaller, but ideally from cock height, e.g. the height of a wimminz on her knees about to blow you, and from that position, and just off hard enough that it hangs down under gravity, but not cold shower shrunk and limp.

Such a pic is what it is what it is, but enough wimminz will see that pic and decide, irrespective of reality, that you have a big cock, and want to ride it, where size doesn’t necessarily mean physical size, it means desirable size.

So the more she wants your cock the bigger its desirable (as opposed to physical) size, and the bigger its desirable size the more she wants your cock, and the above method of taking a cock pic maximises the cues and triggers for desirable size in what passes for a wimminz brain.

And the more she believes you can read her like a book and will be a sex god, the more she feels like she is being fucked by a sex god, and lo and behold here is a 1922 Bugatti in your cunt, it becomes a self fulfilling prophecy.

She will fulfil her part of the bargain by being your obedient no holes barred I will do anything you want you are the best ever I love you I love you I love you master fuck-slut you could wish for.

Of course, 10 seconds after you part company that is all history, all irrelevant, all the last chapter in her life, all the found but now sold Bugatti, so she needs to find a new one, and a new finder, and absolutely nothing that she said last night is worth a damn thing this morning or ever again.

Learn these things my son, and cunt/cum dumpster diving will never trouble you again…

You KNOW FOR A FACT that the days when that barn / cunt contained ANYTHING of ANY VALUE WHATSOEVER are loooong gone, if indeed they ever existed, and so it stands to reason that if the barn / cunt contains nothing of value, that value judgement must of necessity also be applied to ALL words and ALL actions made by the owner and proprietor of that barn / cunt.

“This barn USED to contain a 1922 Bugatti, of course, there ain’t much here now but rat droppings and dead pigeons.” and that is the exceptionally rare and unique ones… most never contained anything of value, and the only intrinsic value they had was way back when they were new and fresh….
…and let’s be honest, that’s pretty much novelty value, because the nature of the beast is that the instant it starts to get used, it becomes used cunt, and then it is just a question of when, not if, it becomes like all the other multi-cock used cunt out there.

Some stupid cunt in Japan paying three quarters of a million to fuck a virgin, I had that for free buddy (and yes, genuine tear the intact hymen teen virgins) and that’s all it’s worth.

Paying three quarters of a million for EXCLUSIVE ACCESS to virgin cunt, that is a different proposition entirely, we used to call that “marriage”, but nowadays it is a contract that cannot be enforced by the buyer.

Demonstrating you can read a skank ho slut like a book, and giving her the best night’s sex she ever had, all for free, and then having her of her own volition bail and dump you the next morning in search of new Bugatti’s, that my friends is fucking priceless.

Related articles

 

%d bloggers like this: