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 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.


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 12, 2013

A Matter of Principle – for Jim


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

You lying motherfucker

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:11 am

It’s a thing, a wimminz says something to you, then some time later, and that time can be minutes or hours or days or weeks, sometimes months or years, they will do something that is UTTERLY at odds with that thing, for example, I have had wimminz wanting to spend the rest of their life with me, and a week later as far as I can tell they have been abducted by aliens and fallen off the planet.20131124_penis

And, it’s got me thinking, that and reading ZeroHedge, that is…

We’ve all talked about the economy tanking, and we have all talked about wimminz being nowt more than sheeple consumers, but has anyone actually sat down and thought what will happen to creatures who can say one thing one week and do something utterly different the next, as/ when  if the economy actually does tank?

I mean, really, what will they really do?

What will they do when something that is bigger and more powerful and even more callous than them, the economy, treats them the way they have been treating men?

I have had a few people talk to me about my job, they talk about the down sides, really not much money for what it is, should pay at least triple, lots of driving, not many perks because you’re always on the road to some new place, and yet a lot of it is the same old same old.

I tell em, yeah, sure, you can find all sorts of fault, but at the end of the day it is a job, it does cover my bills, it suits me, and what the fuck, I’m in my fifties.

What other fucking job am I gonna get? Nobody is queueing up to hire deadbeat dads less than a decade away from the pension book.

My fucking career, and being realistic most of my life, is fucking BEHIND me, hope ya had a good ride, cos all those boats sailed.

It’s an attitude guys get.

Wimminz?

Not so you’d notice.

I know one skank with rug rats, she is off to college to get the sort of qualifications she should have gotten at 16, so she can then go to university for 4 years, so she can then get a job working with kids.

Never mind the fact she HAS fucking kids that are being neglected, never mind the fact that all this depends on state largesse and live now pay later student loans, never mind that even if all these ducks line up just so, she is gonna wind up newly qualified with zero experience in her fucking forties, and with a fucking mountain of debt behind her, and unless the Bernanke QE bucks keep flowing the state won’t be able to employ her or anyone like her, those roles will go.

My job may not be all that, but at least it was financially viable from day one, I didn’t have to go out and front 10k for a franchise or tools or a vehicle or any shit, eg it always was above (in aircraft terminology) above stall speed.

What’s more, even though my original trade was proper engineering, it’s not a huge leap to computers and shit, and anyway, I made that leap 25+ years ago, so 95% of my “learning” on this job was learning the company specific SOP and paperwork and shit.

Contrast with this wimminz, yeah I’ll just buy Concorde on a lease contract, when all the signs are that everyone else is looking for a prius with wings, and because of the debt it’s no good flying passengers so I’ll be flying bitcoins to Hong Kong, not that ANYTHING I have done in life to date can be counted as experience towards this… what the fuck could possibly go wrong.

So the skanky cunt can wake me up with a blowjob every morning last week, and act like I don’t exist this week, and carry on living the way she was.

But how the fuck is that gonna work when YOU HAVE NO FUCKING JOB OR SAVINGS, you live in a house provided by the state, you go shopping with money provided by the state, your current “shoulda learned that shit by 16” college course is provided by the state, and the only way you’re gonna get that 4 year degree is if all that keeps up, PLUS you take on a massive state supported student debt.

How the fuck are you gonna act like none of that exists next week and just carry on? When the state goes bust and can no longer pay for some or all of it? The fucking state ain’t gonna walk away and say cya bitch, and leave you to carry on your life, that three bedroom state provided house they can rent to some cunt like me, and if they MUST provide you with some shelter a one bedroom flat for you and your two womb turds will have to do.

I am serious here, what will these skanky cunts do?

They ain’t giving up the fucking Sky movies and internet package, something I don’t have (OK, I don’t want it, but these triple play deals cost a lot, you’re talking 50 quid a month MINIMUM, nearer 75 or 90) even though I am working, I ain’t got a fucking tassimo machine either, or pets, etc etc.

But then I DO have a fucking credit balance in my bank account and walking around cash in my wallet and all my fucking bills paid and zero debt.

*THIS* is why I said in earlier posts that the awe and amazement I feel when a wimminz just suddenly acts like I no longer exists never really wears off on me, because life fucking ain’t like that.

I know it HAS been, with the funneling of resources to wimminz by the state, but if the wheels are falling of that wagon, what will the wimminz really do?

I think those of us expecting to be able to pick and choose between wimminz offering all three holes sex + your ironing done + a sammich made are in for a shock.

Frog and the Scorpion.

It ain’t in the bitches nature to go quietly into that good night. Scorpions don’t do that…tumblr_mtc5x6Ns8Q1qb6cnho1_500

Ghost? Maybe, if that means you are living in a cave 50 miles hike from the nearest trail, and you don’t have *anything*, not even bog roll or clothes.

More likely they kick up shit and one day I get a knock on my door and they tell me I am a perfectly good white boy with one whole room in my accoms devoted to my machine tools and motorsickle, and another devoted to my computers and giant screen tee vee, so that’s TWO po’ white nigga skank ho’s and their womb turd y’all be having moving in, and you can fucking feed them too…  and if’n I don’t like it then big daddy state can just make sure I don’t get 8 hours a day peace to myself at work, I kin have a NEW fucking job, and since I won’t be earning money I’ll be homeless, but there is this pad with two white nigga skank ho’s and their womb turds and a newly unemployed and homeless white boy, who looked at lot like you, and they need a house nigga, in what is now THEIR house, and you it.

May not be as bad as that, but when I ask what will these skanks do, I’m not thinking they are gonna cry and start selling access to their cunts at 5 cents per day, I’m thinking they are gonna fucking freak.

The ONLY thing I can see them forgetting, like they forget I exist from one week to the next, is all the fucking years they had it made, and still never put shit away for a rainy day or tried to break the cycle.

I am DEADLY fucking serious bout dat.

December 7, 2013

The Necromoronicon

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:43 pm

As Peter Cook said, jokingly, wtf made anyone think whales were intelligent, when was the last time a whale produced a top 10 song.

It got me thinking, or what passes for thinking, about that which must never be mentioned by name… *s*n*t… and in particular alt.binaries.e-books

So, just for shits and giggles, I set newsleecher to download everything from the “dailies” for the last few days, which queued up a total of just over 2,000 e-books.

Once downloaded and imported into Calibre, it was time to clean up the dupes, a few of these were mirror dupes, mainly they were the same book in different formats, anyway, when done, 1,331 unique titles left.

Now go through and select every title with a wimminz author, calibre pops up the book cover so even if the title doesn’t give the content away the cover does, click remove from library.

Down to 358 books

Go through them and see from the cover which ones are clearly written by wimminz using androgynous nom’s de plume, or men’s names, delete

161 books left

delete all the warhammer and star trek crap

122 books left

Nota Bene, these are just BROAD filters, exclusion filters, excluding only wimminz authors, and 100% of their output in fantasy sex shit, utterly opposite from an inclusion filter, such as sci-fi only, ignore everything else.

In this 122 books there is a fairly broad range, tom clancy, feynmann, a little sci fi, a couple of westerns, a couple of crime/detective ones.

But the point is from my random sample of some 2,200+ titles, we are down to 122, which represents about one half of one per cent.

eg 99.5% is chick lit crap.

Now, I’m a reader, not a writer, but let’s take DMJ’s book.

I have not read his book. No particular reason, it falls into the cluster of things I do read, so why haven’t, why, so far, has Broken Roads been that one thing NO retailer can track, the sale that was not made, the lost sale? At least as far as me as a unique potential customer goes.

Number one is I dislike the price disparity, 11 bucks for a hardcopy paperback that is printed and bound and packed and shipped and lands at my door, but 7 bucks for an electronic version that DMJ could have produced himself with Calibre, and yes I understand the vast marketing reach of amazon and resellers margins, but really? 7 fucking bucks for something that has a unit cost of maybe 0.5 cents to process and deliver electronically?

Is DMJ getting the lion’s share of this 7 bucks? I doubt it.

Is the 7/11 bucks ebook/hardcopy price break indicative, eg it costs 0.5 cents to produce and distribute an ebook, and 4 bucks to produce and distribute a paperback? I doubt it.

Number two, again, speaking personally, I got no use for poxy proprietary file formats, nowt wrong with epub, Amazon can kiss my ass with their kindle lock-in, I will either read a ebook with Calibre on my main PC or Moon reader on my Samsung Note 10.1.

Number three, I have nothing against paying for shit that I consume, you can tell from the above that I know how to get pirate copies of anything I want, and yet my PC and Android devices are littered with software and apps and data that I have paid for.

The stuff I have NOT paid for is simply because either;

  1. the pirated shit simply worked better than the paid for shit
  2. the shit itself is worth max maybe 1% of what the seller is demanding
  3. I already paid for that shit five times over (eg music) and to this day you don’t offer that shit to me in a format I want to use
  4. I just wanted to look and play, not keep and use, but you don’t offer a working demo
  5. while I am happy to pay for the shit itself, your insistence that you will bundle it with a bunch of shit I do not want and not give me any option about installing it without that other shit made it a no sale
  6. I’m not prepared to buy your other proprietary device or service (kindle / xbox / ps4) just so I can use this shit.

But I cannot enter into any form of negotiations with you that I could if I was dealing with you face to face over a shop counter, not because electronic trading forbids such things, but because you simply are not interested in selling anything to anyone who does not want it your way, up the ass.

Number four, market dilution, see the above where >99.5% of literary output is wimminz writing shit that frankly, if I tore the pages out and wiped my ass with them, I’d have more shit on my ass than when I started… the ONLY way I know of DMJ’s book is because *******I******* fucking found him and it in my browsing and clicking, so tell me, why should I give one red fucking cent to your marketing machine Amazon? Why should DMJ, for such a putative sale?

In fact, it is the likes of Amazon and the other publishers who diluted the fucking market in the first fucking place…. I should be able to walk into a high street bookshop and ask where the science fiction section is, and when I get there I should be able to find the hard science fiction section…. good luck with that.

If I have to trip over piles of 50 shades on the way in the shop I am not fucking going in.

I don’t mind paying DMJ to read his shit, to me it is the same as buying some beers for the guy jamming down the pub or telling a story over a fire.

I don’t see why I should have to pay Amazon for something they have not done, marketing, as far as my individual potential purchase is concerned.

That is like being in the pub anyway because you were wandering down the street and fancied a pint and spotted a likely looking watering hole, so you walk in and there is this guy jamming with a guitar, and you go up to the barman to get a drink and maybe listen to the guitar guy to see if he is any good, and some cunt in a bow tie walks up and gets in your face and demands a 5 buck entry fee before I can hear any notes guitar guy plays, hey, bow tie cunt says, I’m his fucking agent, I promote his act, fucking pay me.

end of numbers

This ain’t about DMJ or his book, this is about media, distribution, business models, etc etc etc.

When the unit cost of publishing a single book from a single author is measured in cents, or fractions of a cent, and you seek to make money by making trillions of such micro transactions, that what fucks shit up.

It was EXACTLY the same in the early days of the internet, it used to take money and effort to get online, and sure you didn’t like everything you found, but you didn’t find crap because nobody had the resources to upload crap… even when it started to take off as enough of a mainstream thing that there was now a world wide web and a web browser, and therefore potential viewers, you spent a ***LOT*** of fucking time ensuring that NO page on the website was over 50 kilobytes, and the front page better be less than 25 kilobytes, and this was for EVERYTHING, including graphics, check everything for load times over a 9.6 or 11k modem connection, and load processes, ALL the text better load first, while the gfx downloaded line by line as the images appeared like a slowly lowered blind.

The came Assholes On Line and (in the UK) Freeserve, no more cost per minute for the modem connection, and just like the chick lit, it turned to crap, world + dog had websites, contents of my desk drawer in puke technicolor and BLINK and all 230 web safe colours.

It just devalued and buried everything else.

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

we live in a world where you decide to buy a coffee, si you go to starbucks / costa / wtf and who cares it all tastes like shit and the fucking cardboard cup is literally a greater cost to the shop than the coffee / milk / electric to make it.

you know how much the cost is of the chicken in a mcfuckits? 6p per portion, that’s about 10c american, eg it is the cheapest ingredient

you know what the so-called managers in high street retail food chain shops (I mean restaurants here, not walmart) spend most of their time doing? juggling staff and rotas to achieve the industry target of making wages never exceed 40% of the TOTAL costs of that particular outlet.

all of the above are factual by the way, so, back to tracking the sale that was not made for DMJ’s book, in my particular individual case, I’ll buy that fucker when TRUE values are represented, eg Amazon treats it like a loss leader, and go “Hey DMJ, we just sold another copy of your book to some guy called AfOR, here is the 5 bucks he gave us, and here is 6 bucks from us, making a total of 11 bucks for you.

Maybe then I won’t have to download 1,000 books to find 50 that I might possibly read, it’ll be like publishing used to be, you know, in the bad old days when you walked into a bookshop and found it full of Petersen how to books and the latest Larry Niven and Clarke and Dictionaries and Thesaurus and maybe even a Gazetteer or two.

Music is already there, so is video, only video I watch now is fly on the wall shit.

Turn your speakers up. And the sub-bass… To 11

November 26, 2013

A tale of two shitties.


I have a friend.

For her sins, she decided to give a home to a girl who was not a relative, time passes, the girl leaves, time passes, the girl returns to the same town, and it basically a complete, using, nasty, worthless cunt.

My friend is ***slowly*** accepting the truth, the girl was *always* a nasty worthless cunt, the acorn doesn’t fall far from the tree, thing was, she only acted like a decent human being while my friend gave her a home and in effect controlled her environment.

There is a lesson here, the lesson is two-fold…

  1. Just because people behave when you control them, it doesn’t mean they have learned anything or that their nature has changed.
  2. When you remove controls from people, what you see is their true nature, what you saw before was just an act.

This is why I, and many men, don’t big up ourselves at every opportunity, we know that in a post apocalyptic / anarchic / end of the world party scenario the brakes come off, scores get settled, and I will fuck you up just to see that look on your face….

We have humility.

Just like smoking 20 a day for 30 years becomes a habit, so does “obeying the rules” and being a good citizen, neighbour, employee… it becomes automatic, second nature.

All of which makes it tough on anyone under say 30, they haven’t lived long enough to form good habits, especially not if they grew up in a skank single ho wimminz household with a deadbeat dad who hasn’t been seen for years due to false accusations of domestic violence and sexual abuse.

I’d love to love my sons, but I don’t, I have zero contact of any kind with them, and for that I just detest their lying skank ho mom, and avoid her, and THAT is my priority, never giving that psycho skank ho another second of time.

The little bastards will either follow nature and fall close to the tree that is me, or follow nurture and fall close to the tree that is psycho skank ho mommy… time will tell, and there is no substitute for that.

Could this have been avoided? Of course it could, but my thoughts on that matter were not worth shit…

It’s a cruel and callous and cold approach, but it works, and it is, contrary to the friend who started this off by providing an environment of positive reinforcement, the only possible result of providing an environment of negative reinforcement.

I am being TAUGHT to be a cunt, fair enough, I got the memo, I will be an ace student.

Last night a shocked a group of people at a pub, they were discussing a newspaper article about young girls exchanging sex for favours / status / goods / booze etc… and one of the stories was a girl of 12 who let a guy fuck her in exchange for 20 cigarettes…. they were all doing the usual, oh how horrible, I asked what brand of smokes, were these 20 tailor mades or 20 rollups? Because if it was 20 tailor mades the guy overpaid… I coulda slapped faces and had a lesser reaction.

They were all fucking outraged at my attitude, told em, why should I give a fuck, not allowed to give a fuck about my own kids, why should I give a fuck about yours or anyone else’s?

Well yes, what happened to you is wrong, they say, but you shouldn’t apply that to everyone… they say… why not, I ask, well, it is just wrong, you know….  no answers then, just we don’t like it… we don’t like you actually attending the lessons to be a cunt and studying and getting straight A’s, we don’t got shit to say about the classes and courses themselves, or you attending, we just don’t want you learning them lessons pardner.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2513544/Rosie-London-slave-named-police-probe-death-fall-mother.html

They were discussing this too, I dunno, how you can be a SLAVE in a house where you can come and go as you please, aren’t liable legally for any bills or costs, write hundreds of uncensored letters, yadda yadda yadda is fucking beyond me… to me slavery meant ownership, property, zero rights.

But then again, it was born with a cunt so it must be a victim, and the support groups hit the nitrous and pedal to the metal and talk about this being the tip of the slavery iceberg in the UK…. while waving their iDevices which were manufactured by people a damn sight closer to slavery, but still nevertheless free and independent…

It’s been insane for decades, but hear me well brothers, it is getting hysterical now with the meedja and nothing but wall to wall reporting on how da wimminz be suffering one way or another, whether is it because not enough of them are billionaires or too many of them are victims of some atrocity or another at the hands of evil men.

TWO of the guys (shades of the previous article about beta boys suddenly going all alpha and won’t back down) puckered up and said they didn’t buy it, it wasn’t slavery, and they were fucking sick to death of wimminz this and wimminz that and wimminz other, and boy you shoulda seen the look on the faces of their wimminz, utter disbelief, and I’ll give these two fuckers their due, they didn’t back down in front of their alpha wives, they just stuck their chins out and said it’s gone too far, that’s all… we are just sick of hearing this bullshit.

The wimminz of course looked at each other for consensus… lol

The rich irony with the slavery story is it then transpires that the alleged slave masters were not exactly unknown recluses, in fact, they were so well known that they were the actual characters that inspired the cult British TV comedy series Citizen Smith, back in the day…. three decades of slavery, and nobody noticed… on a fucking council estate where *everything* is seen and noticed… not even the Scotland Yard and MI5 investigations into their communist activities uncovered any slavery or abuse.

Because, it didn’t fucking happen.

Justin Beiber better fucking watch out, he may think all those young sluts are of their own free will choosing to buy his shit and scream incoherently at his concerts, but the reality is he is a dark, sinister and abusing cult leader who should be yadda yadda yadda… if things continue as they are, in 2040 Beiber will be in solitary Charles Manson style.. infamous for his crimes…

The disconnect between the reality that many are trying to imprint upon the mass consciousness, and the reality that is seeping into the peripheral vision of the masses on the street, is now starting in earnest.

In the film it was glitches in the Matrix that disturbed peoples dreaming, it reality it is glitches in the propaganda that are disturbing peoples wakefulness, and the real danger here is the the genuine danger signals are being ignored or drowned out by all the false alerts and warnings and panics, we are ignoring all the traffic warning signs and dashboard lights, some of which are telling the truth, and putting our foot down in a bid to get past all the bullshit ones, and next thing we know we will be looking at the  >>>>>>>>>>> chevron signs coming at us at 80 on a corner that an F1 car couldn’t take at 40…

 

 

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