Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

January 2, 2014

Here comes the mirror man…

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

It’s one of the truisms of the men’s world nowadays that whenever a guy describes his story with the psycho ex in great detail, out of the woodwork come a bunch of other guys who are all OMFG, I feel like you have been spying on my with concealed cameras in my home for the past seven years, because you just described EXACTLY what I had…

Yeah, wimminz all be unique little snowflakes… not.

So sooner or later you realise the wimminz play-book has only a limited number of tactics in it, and you can soon learn them all, and then spot them all.

The guy feeling like he is all WTF I don’t understand what is going on there must be something but she won’t tell me what and I do not UNDERSTAND this because literally one minute it was fucking great and next thing I know for no reason that I can see or discern it’s like I don’t exist… bwaaa…

.. is one of them.

You have all felt it and been there.

It is quite excusable, the FIRST time you experience it first hand, to give a fuck, and to want to know what is wrong and what you can do to fix whatever it is, because you have no fucking clue… this is after all a man’s nature, to fix things and understand things.

It’s not like she has told you you are through and go FOAD, so you know where you stand.

Giving that fuck is however extremely dangerous, it can and does quite easily lead to escalating drama and consequences down the line, life changing ones for you, possibly even life ending… certainly false accusations and the abduction of any children you have with her, this shit is really only a matter of when, not if.

Not giving the fuck is what happens when you learn it is just play #x in the wimminz play-book.

But.

Men being men, they still want to understand, so here is your explanation.

To a guy, you can introduce the concept of a “sandbox“, a figurative word to describe a situation where you have a thing going on in life, and that thing, like the sand in a kid’s sandbox, is kept contained and constrained within its strictly defined boundaries, so as not to contaminate everything else.

Tell him to sandbox his work, or his drinking, or whatever, and gets it and is fine with that.

Try to introduce this concept to a wimminz, and the first thing you get is wonder, and then their heads assplode and bits of hamster wheel and toilet roll go flying everywhere, because they can never actually grasp the idea of having one thing that is kept entirely separate from the rest of their lives.

Proper masculine men *can* make great engineers and lawyers and coders and so on, because of this, for the duration of the exercise they can set aside what they ACTUALLY know, and pretend to work with only what is inside the sandbox knowledge.

I personally know of several instances of chains of small groups of people that were specifically set up to reverse engineer a patented product and come up with something that did the same job but that was patent free, that all failed spectacularly because one wimminz or one wimminz and her beta niggerz in the teams failed at sand-boxing, and the end product was a litigation nightmare.

I knew a guy once, years ago, he was a truly great liar, not because he could convince anyone that his lies were truth, but because every time you picked a hole in one of his lies, he just told another lie to fill it, and he could keep this shit up for hours, so long you forgot the original premise and even the will to live.

Contrast this with a wimminz, who will quite quickly just lose it and start shouting at you for not believing her, and then going silent and not answering any new questions, or giving the same answers as she gave already.

Wimminz can’t sandbox, and they know this, instinctively.

So, to get back to the thing that started all this, some poor bastard stood there in confusion and going all WTF???!!!??? And if he is unlucky giving a fuck, and if he is experienced enough at the wimminz play-book not giving a fuck.

If I steal 5 bucks from your wallet, I *know* I stole 5 bucks from your wallet, I cannot remove that knowledge from my head, and so I cannot perfectly mimic the guy stood next to me, who did not steal 5 bucks from your wallet, doesn’t know fuck all about 5 bucks, or your wallet, and doesn’t much give a fuck either way, as long as nobody is pointing the finger at him.

I, being the one who knows he stole your 5 bucks, am anxious to avoid any probing questioning, and specifically any further answers that might arise out of my answers to those questions, the guy next to me, he doesn’t give a fuck.

The wimminz, knowing instinctively that she cannot sandbox, acts like the guy who stole 5 bucks, they will avoid the potentially unpleasant and embarrassing situation, and all the questions that arise.

They cannot sandbox, so they are not going anywhere near letting the guy know WTF was going on with regards to him, because they know that will open the door to other stuff, stuff that they do NOT want to discuss with him, or have him know, or have him question her about.

Now, I am not saying that this necessarily tells you whatever it was that was her real reason, specifically, so you can’t take this and say OK, this is proof she is fucking some other guy, that isn’t what it is at all, it could just as easily, and in fact is more likely, to be the case that whatever she was or is doing now, it is incompatible with and mutually exclusive to, something that she previously told you about herself.

That *might* be that she is fucking some other guy, or it might be that she works checkout at walmart and doesn’t sell real estate like she claimed, or the dead husband who was going to babysit the wombturds so she could come see you ain’t dead, he just had to work extra, and the imaginary babysitter of course couldn’t cover, or it may even be something a simple that there is something about herself being a fuckup that she doesn’t like, and there is no way to answer your questions without exposing that flaw to you.

The point YOU need to get as a guy, is that this play-book move ALWAYS has the same motive behind it for her, and that is keeping you in the dark about something.

It is more important to her that you do not know X,
than it is important to her to spend time in your company.

That, my friends, is all you need to know.

She would rather not be with you and keep her dirty little secret, than be with you and have her dirty little secret be exposed, and face questioning about it, questions to which she does not have good answers, which leads to more questions, etc etc etc.

Whenever you feel that WTF?!>! moment, or see a brother going through it, that is what is really going on.

So, I have a question for you, specifically for those of you who haven’t truly learned the wimminz play-book yet, and who still give a fuck, even a tiny one.

Why are you giving a fuck about someone to whom keeping their own dirty little secrets is more important than treating you like a decent human being?

What possible positive future or outcome do you hope for?

Push for answers and a resolution and the next thing you know the po-lice will be grabbing you by the collar, slapping the cuffs on, and charging you with harassment and intimidation and abuse.

And you STILL won’t be getting those answers you seek.

I have never yet met a man who had any of those questions answered honestly by the wimminz in question.

I know ONE man who had them answered posthumously when plod knocked on his door to inform him that his ex wife would not be collecting the kids as usual because she was dead, plod didn’t know anything at all about a sister, any sister, or any sibling, as next of kin, much less the sister who the wimminz was visiting every weekend for the past 5 years, 2 years separated and 3 years of marriage. Oh, and by the way, was he aware his ex wife was a swinger, and did he ever swing with her? Plod let him into her (used to be his) house, to get the kids clothes and toys, so he grabbed her laptop and later went through it. Then he found out.

It didn’t make him any wiser though, or tell him any USEFUL data that he had not already been given, simply by the fact that she preferred to keep him in the dark and fed on shit, while he went WTF?

Feel WTF? No freely volunteered info forthcoming from her?

Really, what else do you need to know?

Wimminz understand THAT message both instantly and perfectly.

Why don’t you?

January 1, 2014

Paying for sex.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:45 pm

I used to say, often, that I never paid for sex, and this was true, even when I was running a bar that catered to the US 6th fleet and got freebies from the girls, I was fucking whores and not paying for it…

Yet, in many ways it is also true that I never got sex for free, even the casual meaningless one off swingers site hookup involved the cost of a PC, the electric it used, the internet connection, and the extra hot water and soap shower afterwards.

Now I could talk about certain romantic days in the year, which could be any day with a “y” in it, or absence making the heart grow fonder, or whatever, but the fact is da wimminz have quiet periods too, and sometimes they will get to thinking of you, and, if you haven’t made it too unpleasant on them hamster wheel wise last time, who knows, maybe they will drop a dime on you.

And so it is, a couple of the lads are around, because frankly it is fucking pissing it down here, (this pic is my “recycling” bin, the fuckers left the lid open last collection, 19 days ago, as it was empty, nothing to recycle, so this is 19 days rain…)IMG_20140101_130504s and I have the heating on and endless supplies of good coffee and chillin’ sounds, and we are discussing shit like all the crap games on Steam, it’s like yank TV, 999 channels and nothing I want to watch, although Crysis 2 did get another outing last night, and new years resolutions.

So yes, my resolution for this year is get the bobber back together, road legal and on the road, it’s been too fuckin’ long, so that was discussed a little…

… and my phone goes, an SMS…

So, there is this chick, we have been on and off, fucking wise, a couple of times already, off because she goes off on some hamster wheel insanity, on because when she isn’t on the hamster wheel insanity I connect to her quite well and the sex is fucking great, I don’t mind admitting this, I don’t see the problem, am I only supposed to fuck stuff I find revolting? How does that work?

So, the SMS pops up, and this point I’d better mention that one of these guys is a dude I have known for many years, married with kids now and freely admits his wife is nuts, but.. you know the score, at least he is getting his oats regular and there are the kids to think of, and the other guy is someone I have known 3 or 4 years, and this new years is his first anniversary of a nasty break up, he spent last new years in a police cell as a result… so…

The SMS pops up, and I get the oh noes you’re not really going to talk to the skank again are you schtick, and I am like, sure I am, the fucking was damn good, and it may be on the cards again if I play it cool…

But dude, they both chime in, look at the money you spent on the bitch….

So I had to explain the following points;

  1. Yes, I did spend considerably more money when I was in her company than I would have spent had I been sat at home alone for those same periods of time.
  2. A goodly proportion of that money was spent on me, for example if I buy her ingredients so she can cook me a meal that I like.
  3. A reasonable proportion of the money was spent on her, in such a way that at the point of spending I knew I was never going to see that money again, and that is the attitude I took while spending it, that it was being spent, never to be seen again.
  4. Despite all this “needless expenditure on a wimminz” I remain firmly in credit with the bank, all bills paid, zero debt, etc etc etc, so essentially I was spending money I could afford to spend.
  5. Even if you take the worst case scenario, paint it black as possible, include everything you possibly could and call it money spent on the skank, yes, that way it adds up to a large number, call it X bucks, but when you divide that number by the number of hours I spent in her company….. call it Y hours…
  6. I got, all together, five or six months of sexual entertainment, and some comforts and shit too, so that Y hours really is pretty significant, and as far as the X bucks, the married guy visiting spends more than that on being married in two weeks, and the first anniversary single guy spent more than that in fines in one night for punishment for decking the bitch, a straight right into the mouth, she flies back unconscious, in response to her spending 27 seconds (as recorded by CCTV) slapping him around the face for talking to “another girl” in the bar, the other girl being the chick he used to see every month when paying his rent to the flat rentals agency.

I wouldn’t like to sit here and give an actual number for the sum X bucks total / Y hours total and get an hourly rate, the margin for error is about the same magnitude as the number, so we are talking something of the order of a buck fifty / two bucks an hour, plus or minus up to 100%

So, the point of all this.

I would struggle, I really would, with the idea of handing over 50 quid or 100 bucks for an hour with a whore, or whatever the going rates are now for a HOT young 20’s all holes open for business whore.

It’s not the paying for it, it is too much money for not enough time is all.

Fifty quid / 100 bux for two hours I’d go for it, 50 for three hours I’d block book in advance.

Similarly, I struggle with the whole “girlfriend experience” thing, because it involves not just money, which I spend when I am with the skank in question, but time spent doing what SHE wants, which I do NOT do when I am with the skank in question.

Yes, I have spent significant amounts of money while being in this skanks company, over a period of 5 months or so, but as an hourly rate it prolly works out less than what I have spent on Steam, and it is money spent on MY leisure time, I wouldn’t be whining about spending money on a holiday to Acapulco, and dividing it by the number of times I got laid on that holiday, because I did other things than just getting laid, and the same holds true here.

Essentially, I didn’t do anything out of character, or that wasn’t selfish or in my own self interests, in fact the only way you can really fault it is from the “girlfriend experience” perspective, where you spent time with someone because you love them and they love you…sic..

Hell, if you want to talk about being a loser, look at this guy.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2531893/Nandos-fan-spent-1-000-meals-85-branches-win-free-food-life-discover-competition-ended.html

But even then you can say at least he got food in exchange for his money, even if his stated purpose was a complete failure.

My stated purpose was a complete success, for the time we spent together I had unlimited kinky sex and very pleasant company and comforts.

The sour taste bit keeps coming back, as I was trying to impress upon these two guys, that I was “paying for sex”, no cash, no gash, and that is the bit that sticks in the blue pill craw.

And the pseudo red pill craw too, you should not be effectively supporting these skanks by paying them to continue to be skanks.

Which is the point at which I depart company from many self professed MGTOW types, while not claiming to be MGTOW, or indeed anything else except me, I do not see how I have betrayed myself or my principles here.

So, I paid for sex+, (because I got a lot more than just sex, so I call it sex+) informally, not formally as with a whore.

Fucking frog and scorpion guys.

Paying a scorpion to dress up as a frog so you can have freaky kinky monkey sex with it doesn’t turn that scorpion into a frog, it was dress up, pretend, make believe.

WTF is porn, or marriage, or career, but make believe?

So the SMS came in, at this stage that is all it is, your guess is as good as mine as to whether I am going to spend any time with that skank in future.

Would I, given the opportunity? Hell yes…

In preference to the “closer to free” swinging NSA hookups? Hell yes…

Why?

Well, if you have 1,000 bucks in the bank and only so many meals you can eat in a day, would you choose between the 99c BK daily or the $5 Minute steak and blow job?

Very important point here, the INSTANT you stop talking discretionary spending and start eating in to bills and hobbies and garnishing future pay-checks to buy jewellery and gifts are cars and houses, it is an utterly different ball game.

Time is something we also spend, yeah, sure, I’d like it if the skank in question gave me all that she did out of pure love and the money ended up even, like a dog would like two dicks, but that wasn’t ever on offer.

I spent the money and the time, and the combination of the two was that I can look back on the time I did spend with that skank and grin, I had a fucking good time, and a good fucking time, and it was time and money well spent.

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

Of course, perception is a funny thing, I could take on board and internalise the whole paying for sex is wrong thing, or I could cut my cock off, or I could throw the baby out with the bathwater.

What is the ultimate goal here?

1/

To live by a set of rules in the hope that following these will somehow make life better.

2/

To do things (and fuck wimminz) in such a way that you can look back on them and grin and go YUP and should you be presented with the opportunity to take that ride again you go YUP. No regrets.

Seriously.

It is a profound question.

Let us say, right now, just for the purposes of example and argument, that the X bucks spent was 500, and the Y hours of cool company and creature comforts and kinky monkey sex was 250.

$2/hour

I could be sat here now with one of two outcomes;

  1. An extra $500 in the bank, but none of those memories of that kinky sex and creature comforts and good times.
  2. My current positive bank balance, and all those memories.

It’s back to that profound question about the ultimate goals here.

What matters is that FOR ME, I took the better of the two options.

Isn’t that what this should all be about, what is GENUINELY in my own personal long term best interests, looking back with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight.

Yahbut, they say, you clearly have a soft spot for this skank.

So?

I have a soft spot for Milan, doesn’t mean I want to fucking live there for the rest of my fucking life.

Where did this idea come from that ANY and every positive (or even non negative) opinion or feeling about a thing that is overall pretty bad and fucked up is a betrayal and dangerous etc etc.

Yeah, AWALT, AWALT means All Wimminz Are Like That, it does not mean that you are not allowed to find beauty in the curve of a tit or the folds of a cunt or a cute ass bent over in front of you.

You know there is really no purpose in your so called freedom and enlightenment if you gain the courage to declare that AWALT; but lack or lose the courage to state that some aspects of the female form are fucking beautiful, and that you do not regret one second that you spent enjoying that.

December 30, 2013

Got to get your head around this shit

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 10:58 am

It’s a recurring theme with guys I talk to…

“If only Mandy wasn’t such as xxxxx she would be great…”

And if wishes were horses no fucker would walk.

Guys, I feel your pain, I really, literally do, the gap between the reality and what you wish for is big enough to hide and swallow whole universes of pain and heartache, but, it is what it is, and if wishes were horses etc

I hear this all the time too, if only, in hindsight, I had said or done this, and not that, she would still be with me / be with me / be sucking on my cock / not have lied to me / etc etc etc

Fucking grow up, she did not act the way she did because you did or said the wrong code phrase, she acted the way she did because that is the way she is.

Yes, you could, in theory, have acted a different way, and had a different outcome, eg she would be sucking on your cock right now, but, and this is the biggie and back to wishes and horses, she would still be doing what she is doing, and doing it because that is the way she is.

You do NOT leave a bundle of 20’s on the dashboard of your parked car with the doors and windows open, that does NOT make the thief who walks by and finds nothing to steal any less of a thief.

You DO leave a bundle of 20’s etc, the thief walks by and steals them, you did NOT make them a thief.

You don’t leave a bundle of 20’s in plain view because it is stupid and inviting trouble to tempt a thief by doing so, your concern is not with the honest, they have no interest in your property… however little apparent care you take of it.

When you hit the dating / fucking sites and score 0 for 200 attempts, that is not a reflection that your tactics failed, and you should have said or acted differently to score, thinking this way is denying that gap between wishes and reality.

Scoring 0 for 200 is a reflection that your tactics WORKED, you avoided 200 skanks that sure, might have got you laid, but sooner or later, only a question of time, you would come to regret it.

Guys, far from me being able to find ONE example of a wimminz that I have known that, if only this one thing about her was this instead of that, she and we would have been great, this is the story of EVERY WIMMINZ that I have known, no exceptions.

I know, for a fucking fact, 99% of these wimminz can’t help it, but wish they could, wish someone would come along and prevent them from destroying their own lives and leaving them nothing but the gutter and cats and piss… some of the more honest ones will openly admit and discuss this with me, and then turn around and sting the frog they are riding, and then blank me, because it is too painful personally for them to talk to me any more, because I will be a mirror to that fuckup, and that hurts.

You know, on occasion, I have been called in to counsel people, people who are facing issues because a family member has turned into a junkie or an alky. Let’s say the alky/junkie in question is called Tom.

I tell all these people straight, the Tom you knew is dead, this Tom looks like that Tom, talks like him, walks like him, has all his memories, but it isn’t Tom, it is an invasion of the body snatchers Tom, this Tom is not your Tom…. there is nothing you can do for this Tom, and all you can do for yourself is accept that old Tom is dead, and keep this alien body-snatcher 100% out of your life forever.

But there is the gap between wishes and reality, Tom never really kicks the habit, and the person who ignored my advice pays the price, again and again and again.

One of the things you have to accept, and I really do mean this, you have to accept to the point where you own it and make it your own, is the concept that as time passes and you get older, certain things are no longer probable, where probable is me being pedantic and not using the word possible, because there are exceptions, but they are incredibly rare, so I use probable in the sense that it is possible you are holding a winning lottery ticket, but it is not probable.

Would you accept a not yet drawn lottery ticket as full payment for a new car you were selling? No…

Would you attempt to offer a not yet drawn lottery ticket as part payment of a overdue debt you owed to Luigi and Giorgio, who are about to kneecap you, because apart from the lottery ticket you have shit to offer them… Yes…

You cannot sit here and declare yourself to be a red pill motherfucker and talk about wimminz and the wall, and not accept that you also are not immune from the effects of entropy.

Does it pain me that I have almost certainly met, for me, the absolute best fuck I could ever imagine having, but sadly other factors (she was a lying cunt, quelle surprise) meant it died a death, to be specific, I have probably passed the peak of the best sex I am ever going to have… does it pain me?

Well, wishes and reality… that’s the truth.

I’m on one side of that bottomless chasm, and wish I was on the other side.

But I am not.

I do not blame ANYONE, man or wimminz, for simply wishing they were on the other side of the bottomless chasm, for example, I wish the best fuck I ever had wasn’t a liar like all the rest.

I do blame people for denying reality, you ARE on this side of the chasm, if the bitch wanted to get in touch and make amends, because she genuinely regretted lying to me, nothing would have stopped her, one more message from me to help her / save her from herself, one more email in case she missed the last one, one more phone call in case she has changed her mind, one more card in the post extending the olive branch… you get ma drift….

Wishing hurts.

Denying reality is just picking at that scab so it never heals and never stops hurting.

That is what wimminz do, and like Tom the alky/addict, it is a journey that each individual chooses, a journey that can only be taken alone.

DMJ wrote a book, As I walk these broken roads, to me, in many ways it could equally well have been titled As I walk these lonely roads, one title is the physical, the physical roads are in disrepair, that is what is below the main protagonist‘s boot heels, the other is spiritual, that is what is above the main protagonist’s boot heels, and inside his flesh.

We all walk lonely roads, ships that pass in the night, etc etc etc, when I was a young lad, pre-pubescent, which is important because it means you can exclude sex from the equation, there was a TV series that I used to watch, now, I can only remember two things about it, the name The Flashing Blade, and a line from the intro song.. “it is better to have fought and lost, than never fought at all”

And thanks to the marvel’s of t’internetz..

So, in later years, because that is how the brain works, or at least, how my brain works, every time I was supposed to quote Tennyson and loved and lost, I always ended up writing fought and lost, and failed that question… I guess it is a bit like driving from A to B, you miss a turning the first time you make the journey, in all subsequent journeys you miss the same turning and end up making the same alternate way back to the main route.

You’d think that fighting men would get it, one second you’re talking to your mate, next second you’re tasting what is left of him, spattered all over you, but that’s apparently where PTSD comes in, not accepting your on the wrong side of the abyss, nowadays in the western world we pull fighting men out, in other places or on other sides and at other time you stayed “in theater” as it were, for years at a time, no PTSD there, and no doubts about what side of the abyss you were on.

I have no idea how many wimminz I have fucked, we can call that anything from police actions to guerilla warfare, and of course the FRA’s and shit, well, that was Hiroshima and Nagasaki, I’m a veteran, not a superhero super soldier, just a veteran who has been on every shit detail on every battlefront of the gender war, and yeah, I re-upped myself at every opportunity, hoo-fucking-rah… what a fucking putz… but…

but…

A literal lifetime in the trenches does get you way past that PTSD hump and into territory where you cross the abyss, and then the next, and then the next, and if wishes were horses I still be the fresh faced innocent punk outside the recruiting office, and I’d have had real options other than walking in, and I’d have ridden everywhere and walked nowhere.

But wishes are not horses, wishes are not reality, I know the difference.

I see new battalions thrown to the lions every week, and it is a slaughter of the innocents, and the only way I know how to survive it is to become like me, and I dunno that I would wish that on you poor bastards either, I guess God will sort it out.

But every single one of those who I ended up wearing as camo, or seasoning in my billy, or whose shit I had to hump because they took one for the team, every single one of them had one thing in common, they all thought that wishes were horses, all they had to do was believe enough, try enough, pray enough, and the abyss between wishes and reality would be bridged.

The bad news is, plenty who did know shit from shinola still bought it along the way, so learning wishes from horses isn’t perhaps so much a way of surviving, but a mark that all the survivors have in common… so far… hostilities haven’t ceased…

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.

December 22, 2013

Russian crashes on youtube, a bed time story.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:39 pm

I have to admit to being a closet fan of these, twistednederland etc

I find them educational, reinforcement of what I was always taught as a biker, you go where you look, so if you look at an out of control oncoming car, you hit it, instead of aiming for the gap behind the oncoming car, they aim at the nose of it, as does the other driver.

It just struck me, these “accidents” they come in two categories;

  1. the lone asshole driving like a cunt who manages to take out several vehicles in an epic shunt.
  2. two separate assholes in two separate vehicles pushing their luck, alone, either one of them might have gotten away with it, together on the same bit of road, shunt.

There are parallels here to the wimminz….

One of the parallels, and I have thought long and hard to make sure it is not just some sort of observational bias or misjudgement, is driving standards are dropping, in parallel with the economy tanking, as times get hard and people have to be more aggressive about money, they get more aggressive on the road.

Lots of cunts out there are lucky I am not either a/ driving an almost indestructible GTA-V style car, b/ not really keen on being on the po-lice most wanted list, and c/ not carrying a loaded hi-power in the glove box.

I’m seeing a large increase in cunts flicking an indicator on, then immediately proceeding with that maneouver, as though that alone gave them instant right of way, and the other people who have to brake hard to avoid them, well, fuckem…

I’m also seeing a large increase in cunts who think they own the whole fucking road, in the case of motorways that means all three lanes of it, so one minute they are in lane 3 doing 70 mph overtaking some cunt in a silver car doing 60 mph in lane 2 who is overtaking a string of trucks doing a governed 56-59 mph in lane 1, once the cunt in lane 3 has taken 5 minutes to overtake the traffic in lane two, they nip back in to lane 2, and PUT THEIR FUCKING FOOT DOWN, now they are doing 85, and I have to do 90/95 to overtake them, I want to overtake them, because they are driving like an inconsistent cunt and I would rather they were behind me, but, 80 is the limit, 85 is as far as you can push your luck, if you drive sensibly and smoothly and with good spacing and watch all the road around you, 90/95 you get pulled, every time, and there is a big increase in po-lice unmarked cars, and 100 and above is automatic 12 month ban minimum, so automatic unemployment line.

I know it is economically related because in the run up to Christmas, all that spending on presents and consumerism, the driving around here has been fucking APPALLING, people entering junctions they can plainly see that they cannot exit, and then just sitting their blocking traffic the other way when the lights change, people parking just where they choose….

There is a corresponding total lack of awareness of other road users, THEIR vehicles, and the probable performance envelope of THEIR vehicles… frankly when you drive like a cunt in lane 3 until 400 yards before the exit you want and dive across 2 lanes of traffic to lane 1 and force every one else to brake, well #1 I could see you coming, cunt, and I could see you were driving like a cunt, cunt, plus I’m one up in the high end model of a popular German car that is regularly factory serviced irrespective of expense, and is less than 2 years old anyway… no.. no problems braking hard here……. it is the poor bastards in the F10 curtainsider with a load of palletised shit, the poor bastard in the Scania with the bulk tipper on back, and the poor bastard in the Merc hauling a double high Asda trailer behind me, all of whom I eased in front of about a mile back, never once having had to touch my brakes, or make them touch theirs, that I feel sorry for.

That and whoever it is in lane 2 that I would have to sideswipe in order to get out of being a Scania sandwich, and then we will all be treated to some shit from you about how it is the responsibility of the driver behind and anyway you’re running late and your wife is due a baby and yadda yadda yadda.

And by the way this is not just me, I regularly touch base with wagon drivers and motorcycle dispatch riders at roadside caff’s, they are all saying the same thing.

And the parallels to the wimminz?

Well, it is all an attitude of fuck you, I’M ok mate, fuck you if you had to brake, fuck you if you had to swerve, fuck you if you had to make someone else brake, etc etc, because it is all just a videogame anyway, until it isn’t, and then it is all someone else’s fault… 10 seconds ago you thought I was a cunt and you were more than happy to make rude gestures at me and shout and laugh and call me a cunt, now you don’t want to talk to me or anyone else except via your insurance company or lawyer, because suddenly it didn’t go all according to plan, and you don’t plan on accepting any of the consequences, consequences are for other assholes, right…

Until real world physics intervenes.

Speaking personally I can’t wait for driverless google cars and Johnnycab, I’m prepared to give up ever driving a car again, in exchange for no other fucker being allowed to, assuming I can still travel wherever and whenever I want.

Because I am aware, as are the other professional drivers that I talk to at caff’s, that despite my awareness of things, when you put me on a road where everyone else is driving more aggressively, I start to drive more aggressively, and as someone who has at one time ridden or driven everything, and who does a lot of driving, I can drive so aggressively that I can easily turn the tables on you, and it goes within a couple of miles from you thinking you are the fastest thing on the road who owns the fucking road and me thinking you are a mental cunt, to me leaving you 400 yard behind and you and every other fucker thinking I am the mental cunt, and frankly I am, I thoroughly deserve to be banned for life when I get that head on.

So then I pull over for a coffee and a smoke and chill, and drive the fucking speed limit, no matter what.

That by the way has always been my advice to novice bikers.

  1. Drive the speed limit
  2. Drive as fast as you can see, subject to #1
  3. Leave plenty of space, to decrease the gap between #1 and #2
  4. Never overtake if there are any junctions or turn offs of ANY kind between where you are and where you will be when the overtaking maneouver is complete
  5. Never overtake unless you can see every bit of road between where you are and where you will be when the overtaking maneouver is complete
  6. Always at all times make sure other drivers are aware that you are there.
  7. You go where you look…. so look where you want to go, not where you do not want to go. GLANCE at where you do not want to go.

So, there are again obvious parallels, wimminz driving the roads of relationshits in their indestructible GTA cars, well, it’s made me drive those roads like a cunt too, too bad bitches, you wonder why you can’t get a stable relationshit when you are a single mom or in your 40’s, it’s because all the once good drivers are emulating Mad Max, same as me, you taught us this.

Which after a roundabout way brings us to where we came in, because I had some of this shit on when a wimminz knocked on my door, now, this is an ex casual fuck of mine that is now in a relationshit, but she still loves me and wants me as a friend end, yeah yeah, she wants my cock, and I’m not giving her any option except beg for it, I am not going to help her act out some scenario where she can claim it just haaaapened, she didn’t plan it or anything, so we chat for a bit and the subject comes up of STD’s, sexually transmitted diseases… she knows I only fuck bareback.

I believe, like the cunts on the road who thought they were hot shit and the fastest thing there, that I shocked her… lrfh.

“What about them?” I said.

Well, she says, doesn’t it worry you… Nope, I said, why should it… well, she says, you may catch something… and? is my response…

Does

Not

Compute

Hamster wheel spins but gains no traction

I told her straight, I’m in my fifties, not my teens or twenties, and I have male sexual organs, not female, and I am as far as I know done with having kids, not in any event ever able to get pregnant myself.

Now, you tell me skanky, why should I actually give a fuck if I catch an STD, assuming of course I am actually even aware I have caught something, please list the STD’s that a man in his 50’s can catch that are going to affect him seriously in any way.

Just as I can pull up good maps and show you a 75 mile long stretch of A road, and tell you EXACTLY where every single one of the good passing places are, so in real life if I am approaching one of these places and want to pass you the plans start being laid 1 mile beforehand, so when we get TO the passing place and you realise it is one, I already dropped a gear or two 400 yards back in the gap I allowed to build to give me space and vision, and planted the pedal to the metal, it’s the same with fucking and STD’s, I’m not saying all the risks are avoided or that I am the best driver on the planet, but you can do things in such a way that they are a lot easier to do, or in such a way they are a lot harder to do, and catching a dose is the same, and the downside is the same too… that accelerating and vision and overtaking space is also a fuck it brake and abort space, if the gap ain’t there to be exploited you can’t take it.

If the gap is oncoming traffic you NEED at least a couple of seconds to judge their speed, if they are doing 50 you can make it, if they are doing 80 you won’t…

And ultimately it is giving yourself that wriggle room and observation and thinking room and braking and acceleration space that allows me to pass the cunt who thought he was hot shit, not because I am a better driver of have a faster car, neither are true… I just plan ahead enough to give my self room to exploit a potential opportunity.

Which also makes me a very hard person to overtake.

You absolutely do have to be a better driver with a faster car to do it, and if I see you back there, I’ll let you go past.

The wimminz still isn’t getting it, so I explain it, in simple terms.

First off, getting an STD is very unlikely to affect me much, I’m in my fifties, I’m  man (huuge one right there) I have no plans to have kids, I’m generally very healthy anyway, in risk assessment terms if there are things in my life to watch out for it is shit like smoking and driving.

She however is female, so more likely to get an STD if she fuck a guy with an STD , because the transmission path is easier male to female than female to male, may suck, but that’s life.

Also being female / womb / pregnancy etc, loads more consequences she should be aware of there.

Also she is low 30’s, she got 20 more years of potential consequences or infection ramp up time than me.

So it’s a bit like the cunts who annoy me who I overtake, it’s not what I do, it’s how I do it… if I was in their shoes, I would not be doing things THE WAY THEY ARE DOING IT.

She is still having difficulty with this, so I make it very very clear to her, if STD’s are a concern, do not fuck around, 1 new cock every five years is pushing your luck, and not just any cock, it better be a cock that also does not fuck around, and especially does not fuck around on you.

She didn’t like this answer, apparently, like the relative immunity of man like me to the effects of an STD, is “unfair”

Over a year ago there was this wimminz, also in her 30’s, also a single mom, and she had a chance with me, we were together for a while, not living together but fucking, and knowing the small village she came from and a bunch of other factors, I tended to actually give some weight to her claim that I was the 3rd cock she had ever had, it’s not like I had anything riding on whether this number was true or not, but she did.

So it worked for a few months and then it fell apart, she did one of those things wimminz do, tried to play hot and cold with me, don’t ask me why, us guys never know, or care…

So I bumped into her a couple of weeks back quite by accident, and we grab a coffee and chat, and she shows me her whatsapp status, no, I hadn’t seen it or stalked her or anything, but it is about the one who got away… me…

well, number one I did not “get” away, you stopped treating me like something special, so fuck it.

and, number two, je ne regret rien but she regretted this, and maybe we could hang out and shit.

So tell me girl, how many men you been with in the past year and a bit since I seen you last… and her eyes go down to the coffee cup, and I didn’t give her a chance to answer, and said well, there you go, whatever you had to offer me back when I was number 3 is gone innit.

I’ll fuck you, but that’s it. And if I fuck you, I am gonna fuck you hard and dirty and at my convenience not yours. Haven’t heard from her since.

Heads in the fucking sand.

One of the wisest men I ever knew taught me hydraulics, he knew his shit because he was one of the small team who was at Vospers and developed the stabilisers for battleship guns in WW2, and when I asked him for the best bit of advice he could give me it had fuck all to do with hydraulics.

He said “You can say anything you like to your Boss, as long as you are not right, that is the one sin they will never forgive.”

Well, old Peter was right about that, but he was only half right, it’s not just bosses who won’t ever forgive it, wimminz won’t either, and sat here off the top of my head I cannot think of a single instance of a potential relationshit or ongoing relationshit with a wimminz, from the casual to the live together forever serious, that did not end stone cold when I opened my mouth and said to the wimminz in question something that was right…. and of course not what she wanted to hear.

To many people, it is my one huge failing when it comes to relationshits, and employment, sooner or later I go fuck it and open my mouth…. and I’m right.

Game over man…

I could sit here and list all the shit that is wrong with me, or wrong with my life, where “wrong” is actually just “what if”, what if back when given X choice I went down path A instead of path B.

Maybe I should not be sat here in my fifties in my rented accommodations with en suite workshop, living alone, with a whole list of aspirational things and comforts that I don’t have.

On the other hand, I am debt free, I do make enough at a piss easy job that I enjoy to pay all my bills, even if I don’t live a life of a spendfree I liked it so I bought it playboy, the gaff is ever so humble and plain and outdated, but it’s mine, and I’m actually quite happy to stay here, provided no fucker puts the rent up.

And I say all this and tell these stories for a reason, and the reason is not because I have all the fucking answers, I don’t, one of the popular sayings back when I was in prison was “If you are so fucking smart, what are you doing in here?”

And this probably sums me up better than anything else, if I look back at the life I have lived, I was time and again a fool who rushed in where angels would fear to treat, and every single time I survived the experience, and everyone says I am a lucky lucky bastard, and I am, for example surviving the psycho skank ho’s FRA, I was lucky, but, I have to be honest, I have always made a lot of that luck.

Whether it is driving like a cunt, but only after I have built myself some wriggle room to allow for the other asshole and the unforeseen, or fucking psycho skank ho’s, or you get the picture.

It’s always been a double edged sword, yes, it gets me out of shit relatively unscathed, but it also gets me into shit other guys would run a mile from.

And finally the point of this bed time story.

The wimminz who popped in for a coffee while I happened to be watching Russian dash cam carnage, and who asked about STD’s.

The wimminz who was head in the sand unwilling to hear what I had to say, which was IF you are genuinely worried about STD’s, then you don’t just need to change your fucking life, but who you associate with.

The wimminz who was so far head in the sand that I could not even raise the meta-message, about the wimminz from 18 months ago, who potentially had something I might have wanted when I was cock #3, but not after I was BOTH cock #? AND put on the back burner for some un-fucking known reason.

And the meta-meta-message, Jesus fucking loves me, OK, he doesn’t, but you really do make your own luck, both good and bad, and your future is limited by your past, and nobody really wakes up to that shit in the first half century, so hope to god you had enough fun along the way that that pill isn’t too tough to swallow, and hope to god in having that fun it didn’t limit your future too much.

The meta-meta-message, play fair, be honourable, never lie (sure, keep it zipped by all means, nobody is forcing you to give your opinion) and always remember that actions have consequences, 20/20 hindsight is a bitch, YOU ARE HERE, that is nobody else’s fault, and its the only place you can start from today.

Within those limits, and make no mistake, they are limits, and pretty restrictive ones, 2014 can be what you make it…. not because of what shit happens, but because of how you choose to react to it.

Think of it as knowing a mile ahead on every road where the overtaking places are, and the accident black-spots, and being able to position yourself on the road with the right gap in the right gear and the right vision, not because you know what is coming, but because you don’t…..

 

December 21, 2013

Season’s bleatings

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:02 am

Raises a beer and a smoke, this one’s for you, all you single men and deadbeat dad‘s out there, seeing another Christmas and new year in as a sad / lonely / desperate / creepy fuck, celebrate it guys, the peace, the solitude, the tranquillity, and the complete and utter disconnect from the consumer nightmare, a few days when you can close the curtains, lock the door, put the phone in airport mode, pull up the drawbridge, and spend six hours in the bath smoking cigars and drinking beer with some mellow sounds just audible in the background…. or whatever the fuck else floats your boat, as long as none of it involves you feeling crap for being alone… that’s bass ackwards…

Right

Now that shit is outta da way….

Enough time has passed I can now tell you a story.

So, I’m with this skank ho single mom, for the purposes of kinky fucking sex, it’s an ongoing thang, pretty regular, she’s looking for a new wallet, I’m enjoying the ride…lol

So one day her 4 year old daughter walks into the bedroom from the bathroom, all wet from the bath, dragging a towel for momsie to dry her, ten seconds later she (the kid, not momsie) is lying on her back on the bed holding her ankles legs apart tiny tots cunt and asshole on display for all to see.

Mommy looks at me, I look at her, grin, and say sure as hell can see she is her mother’s daughter.

I place a bet with myself and start the clock ticking.

Actually I lose it, because it takes until several hours later that night when skank ho single mommy raises the subject, the inevitable subject, her daughter’s cunt, and is it competition… yeah, they don’t say it that way, but that is what they mean.

The answer they all expect you to give is “No, I would never do such a thing, it is wrong and evil and disgusting and vile and I was never a lostprophets fan…”

I told her the truth, yes, I could clearly see, and see into her cunt, yes, it is clearly recognisable as a cunt, albeit a small one, and yes to a bunch of other shit too… would I fuck it? No.

Not because it is wrong and evil and immoral and I would get caught or any of the reasons people trot out, all of which are frankly quite mutable anyway.

But because of the one thing that is immutable, her little cunt, despite being a cunt, produced all the sexual reaction in me that staring at a cow’s ass would.

Speaking personally, I would be troubled by people who said things like ooooh nooo it’s wrong and evil and yadda yadda, as their first response, and not… meh, nope, no boner, not even a twitch, sorry, it’s unfuckable.

Short of a severe blow to the head, there isn’t much you can do to change such things, it really is on a par with me deciding that after decades of pounding wimminz in all three holes, you know what, I have the cock throbbing craving to find some trucker and suck his cock and start demanding everyone calls me Tracy from now on.

It *should* be the first reaction everyone has, it usually is when a guy dares to walk within 5 miles of a kiddies playground, only to be accosted by some skank… ARE YOU A PAEDO……  guy simply cannot comprehend or compute, WTF, *because* it is alien.

But, we live in a society where the propaganda and brainwashing says that ain’t good enough, all fucking paedos say that, so guys start denying and protesting too much, which is what the feminazis and niggerz wanted, because it sounds as fucking insincere as it is.sheepshagger

Skanky single mom ho GOT it, in fucking one, she said to me that that kid would never be seen by me as a sexual object, even if we all lived as a family, because my first impressions of her were as a non sexual object, a 4 year old…. if she had been 15 when I first saw her… well, whole ‘nother story, as indeed it was.. lrfh

This is the point, the skanky cunts DO get this shit, they really do, they just make out they don’t, because it is a fucking loaded 44 magnum when it comes to putting a guy on edge, especially a guy bred and raised in a society as fucked up and hypocritical as ours, nothing quite like pretending you aren’t sure if a kid is safe with a guy to put that guy on the back foot.

NOTE THIS FUCKING WELL>

It is just like all that pretence that her ex is a violent psycho bastard who scares her.

Bitch, if you’ve taken a fucking beating in your own home, when you walk into your own home (in my company) your fucking eyes will be everywhere, seeing if doors or window latches were disturbed while you were out, you scan quickly to see if shit was moved, and then, once you are sure that the guy who gave you a fucking beating ain’t already in the fucking house with you, then you lock the fucking door you just walked through.

You will be anal about your kids keeping the door and windows locked too.

You will NOT often forget to lock the fucker when you go out, and leave it unlocked when you are in.

I did time in prison, OK, my keys live inside the door, so I can always see them, and so no keys can be put in the outside the door, plus, my door has a door handle on the inside (plus I have light switches) plus seeing as it is MY fucking door I fucking NEVER answer it unless I am expecting you.

You dig what I am saying here.

 

December 19, 2013

Into every life, a little rain must fall.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 8:34 pm

I often see democracy described as an absolutely crap way to run a country, and the only thing positive you could say about it was that all the alternatives were worse.MjAxMy1hYzU1YTQyMzYxZGE5M2Y3

Patriarchy, eg the way we used to run the world up until 1880 or so, could arguably be described the same way.

If you want to play devil’s advocate, you can make a case that wimminz are no worse than men when presented with an opportunity to exploit an unfair advantage, and all we are seeing now is da wimminz exploiting a whole slew of unfair advantages.

It is a sad fact of life that life is unfair, some people catch cancer at 16, some people catch a bullet, some are born the wrong colour for where they live, some are born with the wrong number of limbs or senses.

You can’t do anything about those so afflicted, but you can treat them with some compassion and humanity, and that is where it all falls down, because compassion and humanity are essentially charitable things, and when you legislate giving to a charity, it ceases to be a charity, it becomes taxation.

Chivalry, or other words to describe treating a wimminz with respect, opening doors, giving up seats, goes the same way, it is a charitable act given freely by those so inclined, but as soon as you legislate it, it becomes a tax, and it is no longer given freely by anyone, even those who would have given it freely in the past.

The recipients of charity might not have liked being the recipients of charity, “living on the parish” as it was known when my dad was a boy, before the welfare state and social security, was a thing of shame, nevertheless those who lived on the parish were grateful for what they were given, and there was a certain level of influence by the parish, if you were the modern “neighbour from hell” type, don’t expect more than stale bread in your weekly package.

The recipients of a “right” obtained by universal taxation are however quite a different breed, it is my fucking right, cunts, fucking give it to me NOW! ALL OF IT!

Now, let me tell you something you may not be consciously aware of.

You know those old sci-fi stories where they talked about robots making everything so nobody had to work, and they imagined everyone would lead a life of leisure.

Well, they are not sci-fi, thanks to industrialisation and technology, to all intents and purposes, nobody has to work, if you want to be fucking picky about it, maybe at most 2.5% of the population have to work.

For the first time in human history producing enough X for everyone is not a back breaking job that involves everyone, it isn’t even easy now, it is easier than that, it is trivial, so trivial that producing enough X for everyone is the last of the problems you face, the real stick is selling X, in a market flooded with similar things.

When I grew up, there was a fucking telephone, that is it, you could walk into ANY fucking house in the UK from Buckingham Palace on down, if they had a phone, they all had the SAME FUCKING PHONE.

Today, a list of telephones that you sit down and make with pen and paper, even if you manage somehow to do the research and list every single make and model and shape and colour and design and variety available, no mean task all by itself, said list is out of date the instant you finish it.

Telephones are just an example, you can say the exact same thing about anything and everything including tins of soup, trainers, cars, pencils and even fucking toilet roll for christ’s sake.

The other 97.5% of the population who don’t actually work, well, let them be hairdressers and sales advisers and computer programmers and HR types and real estate agents and clerks and shit, and give them money in exchange for this non-work, so they can choose between ( I just did this at Tesco website, search for “toilet roll”) ONE HUNDRED AND MOTHERFUCKING THIRTY MOTHERFUCKING SIX results / matches.

How many types of fucking soap powder does the planet fucking need, Tesco ALONE has more varieties of fucking soap powder than Heinz used to have as fucking product lines…

But far from the sci-fi dreams where this 97.5% of the population who don’t actually fucking work live carefree lives of leisure and pleasure, we all know is the reality is they would all be bored shitless, and within 12 months all of them would have become radicalised suicide bombers campaigning for the rights of rabbit droppings to remain undisturbed or some such crapola.

Hence, the pretend make work that they all do.

So, what price the economy, if 97.5% of the populace serve no purpose whatsoever other than being given some make believe make work to keep them out of trouble and make them think they have earned the money they splurge over choosing between which of 2,635 varieties of cup cake to eat with which of 385 varieties of coffee flavoured beverage?

If they stop “work”, it just means more idle hands for the devil, it doesn’t actually make the slightest bit of difference to how many different varieties of tampon the various manufacturers are able to produce.

Which goes some way to explaining something.20131124_o10corps

This… click it for the full size version

All that variety… not.. all those separate companies competing against one another…not… all that choice… not.

So here is a thought, as evil and crap for everyone except those who directly own and run those ten companies that own almost everyone one else in consumerland, what if like democracy and patriarchy, the only positive thing you can say about it is every possible alternative is worse, many of them much, much, worse…

If 97.5% of the population never having anything except a make believe fake job is crap, what if all the alternatives, including the sci-fi life of leisure, are worse, many of them much, much worse.

What if, everything about society and the economy and politics was fucking crap, but it just happened to be better than all the alternatives, so instead of leaving well enough alone all we have been doing if fucking with it in the name of equality or liberty or freedom or human rights, well, suddenly, not only is it all still crap, it is even more crap, so much so that increasing numbers of people start to question those alternatives, yeah, I know they are all worse than what we HAD, but in reality, how much worse are SOME of them, than what we have NOW?

What if, now things are going to hell in a handcart, the brakes, which were appeals made to my better nature, to my charity, no longer work, because the charity was taken away and replaced with a taxation, moreover, a taxation without representation, an unjust tax, one I DO NOT FUCKING LIKE…

What if, in an attempt to ensure that exactly the same number of raindrops of the same composition and the same size  falling at the same speed and same temperature on everyone, equally, we end up destabilising the weather to such an extent that only the extremes are now possible, fimbulwinter, or 40 days and nights of rain, or a Bradbury drought?

I’ll tell you something else that has changed, DRAMATICALLY, since I was a child, no, not human nature, that is immutable, but human beliefs.

Never, in all my born days, have I met so many people who GENUINELY believe in all kinds of arcane, improbable, implausible, and down right impossible shit, but then I wasn’t around in the middle ages.

Combine this with the facts that;

  1. the last of those who saw first hand the effects of a real war on white man’s soil are now in their 90’s
  2. the last of those who saw first hand the effects of a major economic bubble and depression are all dead
  3. the last of those who saw first hand the final stages of the rollout / step change from one fundamental set of technologies and industry to the next are all dead

And it doesn’t look good, unless you find change “interesting”, and I use that word in the sense of the Chinese curse, may you live in interesting times.

How ever much rain is falling on us men as individuals and absent fathers and guys living alone etc etc etc, it may well be time to invoke chamberlain and peace in our time, and macmillan and you never had it so good.

December 14, 2013

Three coins in the fountain.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:06 pm

So, there was a funeral in the morning, a small crew of attendees wearing rented Elvis gear, a surreal moment at the service when at the warm up, the last track played was an Elvis track, just not like the other Elvis tracks, this was Elvis Costello, I don’t wanna go to chelsea.

Quite funny really, especially as Jim’s skank ho ex was called Elsie.

Last night was bizarre too, it felt more like being in a first person RPG than walking down actual streets, I guess satire and marketing jumped the shark when lots of stuff in real life is more unreal than lots of stuff in video life.

So breakfast (coffee and smokes) this morning is a bunch of guys dressed like Elvis, all of whom work in IT, all of whom have at some point failed the modern security clearances to work on certain government / education / police contracts, not because they were security risks, but because they weren’t nice blank sheets of paper and had actually done some bad things at some point in their lives, or been near those who had, or been accused of it by “people” like Elsie, discussing the debacle of the guy who was security vetted so well nobody noticed either his criminal record or the FACT HE COULD NOT EVEN FUCKING SIGN before standing him literally in arm’s reach of Obama for Mandela‘s funeral.

Way to go NSA / CIA / FDA / WTF

The whole morning, and the service itself, went like that, if anyone else had been invited I am positive they would have said it was totally disrespectful, but the fact is if Jim had been there he would have been participating in every single one of those conversations, and the only moment of doubt I suffered was last night when one of the other guys tried to start a bar tab in Jim’s name, “he’ll be along in a minute…” LRFH

Anyway for one reason or another one of the lads asked about my sex life, oho yet another one kicked to the kerb is it, and they picked up on something I hadn’t, there has been a series of these the last couple of years, and, from one perspective, you could say I fucked them all up.

From that perspective, to not fuck them up, or at least to not fuck them up at that time and place, all I had to do was keep my fucking mouth shut, but when you don’t do that, when you adopt a louder and more forceful tone and do a whole WTF, that is outrageous, that you should do that, and that you should expect me to just buy it…  they all got fucked up.

I hadn’t actually made the connection, it was always after I called them on their shit, my problem apparently is I do so in such a way, with logic and reason, that it doesn’t give a way out for creatures who simply will not ever admit to fucking up, much less atoning for their actions or personally bearing the consequences of them.

There then followed a bunch of discussion about whether I was really a callous bastard who seized upon such moments to GTFO while the going was still good and you’d had all the best that that particular wimminz could offer, or whether I was really an autistic bastard who didn’t even know what he was doing… at the time…

Y’all aren’t allowed to smoke inside in the UK no more, so it was after this I’m outside for a smoke, and there is this young chick there, seen her hear us inside so she doesn’t have to ask what’s with the elvis shit or funeral talk etc, “to Jim, cheers” etc she has overheard it all.

Now, at any other time I’d have fucked the ass off her, youth has a certain beauty all its own, but my mind isn’t really on that as it isn’t possible, so with no warning at all she walks over to me and gives me a big kiss on the cheek and a hug and says what we are doing is so sweet… takes a final drag on her smoke, throws it to the ground and starts to walks away.

I say hey girl, what gives, and there she is, all of 19 or so, and gives me the saddest smile, and she says if a woman dies can you imagine a bunch of her friends desssing up as Madonna just because she was a huge fan, and having a night out to celebrate her? and she walks away into the night and the sodium light… I finished my smoke, went back in, and forgot all about it, then there is teh service and blah de blah and we go our separate ways, and I’m sitting in the train writing this on the tablet, because I can’t get what that girl said out of my head.

Other times, other funerals, other wimminz, all I can remember is them wanting to play dress up, and I don’t mean Tina Turner, I mean LBD and heels and make up and hair do, and that little girl is right, I just can’t imagine the fuckers doing what we did, all I can see is vicars and tarts, and hen nights, and a big gap, and other dead wimminz, like my grandmother, who was a battleaxe bitch, but who remained a single widow for 30 years and only ever wore black as a widow, and that shit has gone forever.

“No man is an island”

maybe, no wimminz is ever anything else but.

 

 

December 12, 2013

A Matter of Principle – for Jim

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:43 pm

See, I have this policy, you can more or less sum it up thus;

  1. I meet you, and you’re a blank slate, what gets written there depends upon you.
  2. I will learn what you teach me by your actions.
  3. If there is a difference between your words and your actions, your actions carry the weight, and your words become worthless.

I have had some chats with a few people about a couple of recent posts, the dichotomy between what wimminz do this week, and what they said last week.

To be fair, in my experience, in a lot of cases this isn’t actual malice per se, what happens is this;

  1. The wimminz says something to you
  2. The wimminz does something different
  3. The wimminz realises / remembers you go by the first set of numbers above in blue
  4. The wimminz feels awkward, and so, like a small child, rather than face up to it they turn away and pretend to ignore the source of the shame, you, for having standards.
  5. Eventually, possibly, after enough time has passed she will talk to you again.

If you are thinking spoiled 4 year old child, you pretty much have it nailed.

The “problem” here is that when you have someone like most men, who work according to the blue text, and you mix it with wimminz, who work according to the pink text, it is pretty much only a matter of time until the two crash into each other and she invokes option 4.

What you guys have to realise is you can’t make this work, I *used* to express my policy as “I don’t give a fuck how you treat other people, only how you treat me” but the problem with that policy is the assumption that this wimminz is going to treat you differently than she has treated everyone else…. leopards and spots spring to mind.

If you are either unlucky, or stupid, you find yourself in the place I was what is several years ago now, in a relationshit with a wimminz, where there were enough ties that she couldn’t really do #4, or she instead chose secret item 4a, which isn’t written anywhere, which is to hurt you for making her feel shame.

That’s when you start down the road to false accusations of domestic violence, sexual abuse and rape.

Nota Bene, it can be a third party that prevents her taking option 4, doesn’t matter, you are still the source of her angst.

So at this point you either wise up, or you don’t.

If you wise up then you realise that there is absolutely nothing you can do, or not do, to remedy or change the situation one iota, nor was there anything you could have done to prevent it, except perhaps having no standards whatsoever and accepting anything and everything she did unquestioningly.

Never ever ever call pwincess out on her bullshit…

Of course this goes 100% against a man’s nature, which is to alter the environment to suit, he can’t resist meddling, but at some point in your life you just have to learn the lesson that there are some things that not only can NEVER be improved by meddling, but which are also ALWAYS made worse by meddling.

Wimminz be such a thing.

If she has always treated everyone like shit, she is gonna treat you like shit sherlock, and this is one of the reasons I always bail the instant I hear a wimminz say anything negative about any of her ex’s….

Fact is in some cases for whatever reasons I was able to know more than merely what she told me about the hated ex, eg I remember the newspaper mentioning the guy’s name and reporting on the fact he got thrown into prison for 3 years for beating the living shit out of her.

I got news for you, she fucking deserved it, no exceptions, and the only thing standing between you accepting that as fact, and you thinking she is gonna treat you different / better because, after all, you aren’t some low life thug scum, is time spent in her company.

Now I am not actually advocating or excusing violence against da wimminz, or anyone else, but the fact is when a person indulges in a persistent pattern of behaviour, in close proximity to and affecting another person, then the other person is affected by the first person’s behaviour… and depending on the behaviour of the first person that can indeed elicit a violent response from the second person.

I can make *anyone* completely fucking lose it and go postal on me, it’s easy, this is all you have to do

  1. flick their ear hard
  2. act contrite and promise never to do it again
  3. wait 8 to 24 hours
  4. go to #1

At that point it is just a question of iteration, sooner or later *everyone* will fucking lose it.

Here is something else I have observed.

These nasty ex’s who have lost it come in two categories.

The ones who now have criminal and prison records for violence against her, these always seem to be softer types that worked at keyboards or clerky sort of stuff…. generally they had a long relationship with the bitch before losing it one day and beating the crap out of them.

The ones who had a record before they met the bitch, these are the ones that slapped her upside the head the first time she stepped out of line.

If she has kids, and he never sees them, it tends to be by the first sort.

Now, I am not saying it is better to be the sort of guy who slaps the bitch upside the head at the first sign of disobedience, they are after all both losing strategies, but the guy who takes a lot of shit in silence before eventually breaking is the bigger loser of the two.

So it is worse to be the guy who suffers in silence, hoping one day she will change.

But, at least both of these guys got laid at some point, if you want to be a REAL fucking loser, all you have to do is be one of the niggerz who came running around to pwotect da pwintheth when she dropped a dime on these guys.

Why do you think they hate the other two classes of loser so much…. at least they got to dip their wicks in da pwincess…

Which all brings me to what this post is really about.

Do you do what I do, mainly avoid but select they prey and then pump and dump, or do you do what others do and go ghost and celibate?

Well, #1 you gotta be true to you, that is the biggie.

Frankly speaking, neither path offers significant advantages over the other when it comes to protecting yourself from future malicious false allegations…. the prosecution can make a case either way, and the bit you need to get is that the real damage starts at the point of allegation / accusation, when da police niggerz swing into action against your ass.

This is the point where things go hard or easy depending on whether or not you have been true to yourself. Principles, it’s a lot harder to railroad a guy who has been demonstrably living according to his own unique set.

Just like the skank who has always said one thing and done another, living by your principles, whether that be pump and dump or abstinence, does something very very important.

It builds a pattern of behaviour.

The best guide to both someone’s future actions and possible / probable past actions is to look at their pattern of behaviour, does whatever this thing is fit in with it, or not?

If it does, then it is probably true, if it doesn’t, then it probably isn’t.

I don’t want to say that is how I “beat” my FRA, because above all else it was a FALSE rape accusation, FALSE DV accusation, etc, but, these false allegations and accusations did not fit with the observable pattern of behaviour of my life.

This is a million miles away from saying that the observable pattern of behaviour of my life painted a picture of an exceptional and wonderful human being, on the contrary it painted a picture of someone pretty fucking ordinary when it came right down to it, full of the usual complement of flaws and weaknesses and frailties.

And there is the rub, if you take someone who has an observable pattern of being a gambling fool, but no history of violence, you have a hard job painting them as a violent thug.

People start to ask, if this guy has these tendencies that are so close to the surface, how come everything we can observe highlights all this other shit?

Why is there none of THIS shit? Did he just suffer a blow to the head, or some other explanation, for what is in effect an alleged change of personality?

If you are like me, and you like cunt, then trying to emulate someone who can just go ghost and celibate ain’t gonna sit right, look right, or feel right.

If you can do those things naturally, then more power to you.

If you can’t, then you need to do what I do, which is *attempt* to indulge them, while remaining true to your principles.

That doesn’t mean dating skank ho single mommies and ignoring all that bad shit because what you are really after is getting laid, that there, see, that is when you start doing shit that doesn’t fit.

If you end up on swinging / fucking sites where people are openly offering NSA sex, fairy nuff.

If you still can’t get that shit together, put away 25 a week and once a month drop a dime on a whore.

And here we come to the really important part.

Starting to fuck whores isn’t a change in WHO YOU ARE, it is a change in WHAT YOU DO, the two are not necessarily the same thing.

You’re still fucking, you are paying cash directly now instead of indirectly, but you are still fucking, which is closer to what you used to do with the skanky ex than getting your fucking by hanging with a skank ho single mommy and her womb turds and playing beta step daddy. (assuming there were no step kids with the skanky ex)

What matters is you are still fucking, not that you are now paying cash for it.

What matters is you are still not hanging with other men’s kids, not that you’re only doing it because you are banging their mummy.

Yes, it’s subtle, but all the important aspects of human nature are, and subtle or not this is just the sort of shit we have evolved to notice and judge.

Take my mate Jim, now Jim has always been an Elvis asshole, and a mad on Elvis and insists on singing Elvis songs even though he can’t sing a fucking note to save his life asshole who insists on saying thangyaverymuch and uhhuh.

Jim went through a similar experience to me.

Nobody, and I mean nobody, buy’s her version of events, not even da po-lice who arrested him etc etc.

She took all his shit, all his LP’s posters rhinestone and you fucking name it, even cost him his job house and kids.

Jim still listens to Elvis, when da po-lice said we ain’t gonna charge you 15 months after arresting him he says thangyaverymuch and walks out the station, singing Men With Broken Hearts (an Elvis song) and so in many ways his life has changed utterly.

Jim now bangs whores once every six weeks, like clockwork, he tell’s em thangyaverymuch and sings She’s Not You as he walks away (another Elvis song)

Jim stuck to his principles, I wasn’t there, but apparently when the po-lice interrogated him as to the alleged rapes and domestic violence his answer was he didn’t do that, and when they pushed him he said he didn’t do that, because the King wouldn’t have done it.

I know maybe one person who actually gets where Jim is coming from, and he thinks Bob Marley was God, but *everyone* buys his story and n0t hers, because what he does is changed, but he is still who he always was, and that’s what counts with people.

Jim didn’t get shit on from a great height because he was an Elvis loving asshole, he got shit on because she was a worthless skank ho and the world is full of niggerz, so stopping being an Elvis loving asshole isn’t going to change anything…. except it will break that pattern of who Jim is, and at THAT point you might start to question what else about him you don’t know, or has changed.

I just got word, Jim died in hospital yesterday morning, heart attack, funeral is Saturday, asked if I can make it, said yeah, it’s only 200 miles, I was told 2 things.

1/ Don’t worry about dress, they’ve grabbed an Elvis costume in my size…

2/ Don’t tell his skank ho ex, this is a service for Jim’s mates only.

It would appear that those intangible and ever so subtle things, Jim’s principles, lasted longer than his heart.

December 11, 2013

I could just be unlucky

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:19 pm

or maybe I have some sort of genetic deformity that emits a secret pheromone, or maybe god just hates me.

I mean, otherwise, what are the chances, you know what I mean…

It is statistically improbable beyond the point of credibility or belief that mere bad luck on my part can account for me to spend fucking decades drifting through life, imagine a being walking amongst the teeming masses, and yet I have managed, so far, to completely and utterly fail to meet even one single wimminz who didn’t lie through her fucking teeth for a pass-time, and who said one thing yesterday and did something completely opposite today.761Bv

I mean, can you imagine something where you have a guy, and every single dog they have ever met bit them…. you’d start to get suspicious… maybe the guy is giving off “bite me” smells to the dogs…

And then you dig deeper, and find that guy has never met another guy who has had a different experience, sure, he has met a few who claimed different, and when you point out the puncture marks and scabs they claim Fido was just being playful and didn’t mean anything by it.

At what point are you going to stop and say, you know, maybe this guy isn’t the salient factor here, maybe we should be looking at these dogs.

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

I chose dogs for a reason, the reason is that you can argue both sides of the coin, back in pre-history did early humans adopt early dogs and tame them, or did early dogs adopt early humans and tame them…. it’s a bit of a quandary, but either way we are now in a place where dogs are a man’s best friend overall, and vice versa.

Now, if human beings are just DNA‘s way of making more DNA, you can start to get into some interesting thought experiments.

Here are some;

1/ It is not necessary for DNA (or indeed RNA) that males and females get along all cosy like and everybody wins, in fact you can look at things like the life cycle of the Malaria disease, provided nobody loses so badly it affects the propogation of the Malaria, Malaria doesn’t give a fuck.

2/ Nor is it necessary in sexual reproduction for the two sexes to get along all cosy like as equals, in fact, I will challenge you to name a SINGLE species anywhere on the planet where this is true…. as long as reproduction takes place at a rate sufficient to sustain both evolution and population, all is good.

3/ Alpha males / pack leader was one way for a male to ensure continuation of his DNA, and the competition served evolution too, and then came speech, so it stands to reason that if speech were all Star Trek Vulcan and always 100% truthful / logical / accurate, at least when it came to matters of sexual reproduction, it wouldn’t work, the liar will win every time. Yes, this is your child.

4/ Genetically speaking, the evolution takes place in the male, XY and all that, and genetically speaking, a foetus is somewhere between a symbiote and a parasite on the host organism, so in evolutionary terms, the female needs something extra to make up for this, and that extra was to become a parasite to the male, and live off their effort…. Suddenly communication came in to play… Yes, this is your child.

5/ Genetically speaking, it is only in the last 150 years that the female stood *any* chance of being caught out in such a lie, humanity lived in small isolated groups that didn’t mix much, everyone in the community *was* a relative. It took the advent of the railway to provide enough mobility that a female could produce a child that clearly was *not* related to anyone in the village… Yes this is your child does not work when the child suddenly has brown eyes, or red hair, or dark skin.

————————————————————————

I touched on this yesterday, with the what will the wimminz really do thing.. but the point here is this.

Genetically and evolutionary wise, the last 150 years of technology and the ability to breed outside the local gene puddle is such a short time it isn’t even the blink of an eye.

Hell, it was only the invention of the chimney in the 1500’s which changed the way houses were built that permitted people to fuck in privacy, before that it was one big room…

Up until this time…

Far from the patriarchy being a privilege, it was the only possible way that you could sell a guy on the idea that he had to sit still and be a host to a parasite that lived off the fruit of his labours… and such labours were such a significant part of each man’s total output that the mere idea of any of them being stolen by a cuckold was serious, serious, shit.

As the Stones sang, the so called privileged patriarchy alpha male was in effect, from many many many viewpoints, no more than a beast of burden, and any so called male privilege that he got was in fact no more than the minimum you could possibly do to convince any beast of burden to stay harnessed to the yoke… no point being a plough horse if the wild ponies eat better, I want my fucking fresh yummy oats.

I see a wimminz lie to me, one week promising me the earth, next week I do not exist, bitch is doing me a fucking favour, she is showing me her inability to fulfil her end of the bargain and provide me with my fresh yummy oats every day, so I refuse to put on the harness and yoke and be the beast of burden.

Again, as I alluded to in the last piece, from the DNA perspective this sounds like an instant lose / lose proposition, but no, because now the wimminz are parasites on the state, and the state is putting men to the draft as beasts of burden.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You know, I got a *lot* of shit for fucking a wimminz and her daughter, but honestly, get fucking real, you turn up in my presence with another adult female that is younger and more fertile than you, WTF do you think I am going to think? One thing I *do* know for sure is it ain’t *my* fucking daughter, so why should I not want to fuck it?

Seriously, where is the payoff for me for *not* fucking you both?

<crickets>

Sure bitch, *you* don’t like it, but to prevent it all *you* had to do was stay with the father, assuming you even knew who that was…. if you dump him you can’t complain if 20 years later some other random guy is as willing to fuck her as he is you.

But, to get back to the plot.

Instead of being parasites on individual men, or on small groups of related men, now wimminz be parasites on the State, and I fucking DEFY any of you to come up with a better definition for a creature that takes their entire life and gives nothing back but more of their own DNA other than a fucking parasite.

Men went from having a parasite that was at best carrying his own child, and at worst carrying his brothers or cousins child, either way there is a LOT of his DNA there, and he gets to see and influence that child throughout their growing years…. to the situation we now have, where the one person LEAST likely to be anywhere near their own DNA is the father, but, via the State, you still get to pay… and not just for your own personal parasite, in exchange for regular fresh oats, but as a social bill, and no oats in return.

For the parasite, the wimminz, there is no downside to all this, in fact it is win/win, now they can not merely have 5 kids by 5 fathers and maximise the DNA mixing, which is their role as host to the foetus, which, if male, will be the actual engine of evolution, but they can pull a train of 5 guys for each pregnancy, and let the most fertile sperm win.

The only downside to all this is the beast of burden, who is supposed to just carry on pulling that plough, not getting any fresh oats, and shut the fuck up, while also accepting that his *individual* role in that evolutionary DNA mixing lotto machine is minimised to the maximum extent possible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So the world as a whole is looking at the engine of everything, the ultimate host for all subsequent tiers of parasites, the working man, as a boiler, and they are pouring more and more coal under it and demanding ever greater volumes of steam and ever greater levels of superheat, because, you know, that is all parasites can do (Scorpion and Frog bro) and when rivets start creaking and seams start rumbling what do they do?

They pick up a hammer and start beating on the individual rivets and seams, and, to an extent, yeah, this can actually work, if you are a fucking lunatic with a death wish who is feeling very very fucking lucky.

Back in the day, in the old Board of Trade days when you were sitting your Chief Engineer exams, they used to throw in the odd not so trick question, to see if you were awake and thinking…. one of these questions was, “What steps to you take when the main steam line fractures?”

The answer was of course “The engine room steps… and fucking quickly.” Because 60 to 90 seconds later everything in the engine room is bathed in superheated steam, it’s not just dead, it is cooked and tender enough to fall off the bone.

If you suspected a boiler was getting near failure, you opened all the valves, dumped the hearth and aimed hoses at it to cool it down, ideally you did all that in a few seconds, and then took the fucking engine room steps or equivalent, and retired to a safe distance, and you did not return until the temperature inside the boiler was below boiling and the pressure was open to atmospheric.

You didn’t run up with a hammer and start trying to beat on the rivets and seams in question.

LETS ALL HAVE A BIG WAR.

Well, let’s look at that, we have a population of parasites, wimminz, and their parasites, kids, that have already vastly exceeded whatever resource consumption they could get directly from males as individuals.

So the situation evolved to the one we have today, where the required resources for the parasites are taken from the males en masse, socially, via the State.

And you think a big war, which of course means MALES going off and getting killed, which even further unbalances the situation, is going to solve anything???

The facts are that there is a direct correlation between the number of years a parasite, wimminz, stays in a monogamous relationshit with a single host, man, and the maximum number of womb turds she can produce, when you look at society as a whole.

Statistically speaking the catholics/jews/muslims/you name it in 40 year monogamous situations out-breed everyone else.

Simply because the individual males, hosts, responsible for that level of parasitic activity stand for it, they get fresh oats daily.

Sans the State, wimminz can *maybe* support 1 or possibly 2 kids, but it is a life of grinding hardship, and nothing is off limits, 2 dollar whoring is good… and this is a big maybe, most will abandon the kid or kill it, as they will already not have enough resources for themselves.

Expect lots of die offs, kids first…. if TSHTF

Nothing that involves silencing those creaking rivets and seams is a solution, it is a part of the fucking problem, at this point the solutions are not going to be pretty.

An engineer is someone who can look at doing nothing until the boiler blows and everyone is fucked, some time in the future, who knows when, keep kicking the can, or turning the spigot back from 110% to 40% for the foreseeable while repairs are made, and people start dying NOW in large numbers, and not see any real choice or difficulty.

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