Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

July 20, 2013

Slutz for rent… cheeeeep…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:47 am

First of all we had better get the NAWALT thing outta da way…  if you hadn’t met her on a fucking site you would not have known she had fucked 30 guys 5 couples and 2 wimminz over the past year, some of them repeats.warn_a_brother

Just cos you did not know this, does not mean it didn’t happen.

“Ignorance is bliss“?

I doubt it, shit that you don’t know is in my experience just deferred pain.

So, AWALT.

Now you got two choices, you can go ghost, or when life hands you lemons you can make lemonade.

Me, I choose to make lemonade.

The problem is for the 99.9% of guys who get handed lemons and try to “improve” it and make champagne, I’m reminded of the line from Christine, “Boy, ya can’t polish a turd.” and boy does this ever apply to wimminz, all wimminz, no exceptions…

You get handed a slut the only change you can make, and it is temporary, but worthwhile, is to change her from being “a slut” to being “your slut”, that has some utility, until the point where it forgets its station in life, and that is kerb time.

There is a thing in life called EROI, energy returned on investment, and it applies to everything.

If you expend a 1,000 bucks worth of diesel and maintenance and fertiliser and seeds to farm and grow 500 bucks worth of food, you just lost, sooner or later you are going to starve.

If you expend 1,000 kWh of oil energy to pull 750 kWh energy worth of oil out of the ground, you just lost, if someone hands you 1,000 kWh of hydro power that only cost 250 kWh to build and maintain then you just broke even.

Taking the day off and firing up the twin big blocks in your classic 35 foot cigarette boat and going out for the day turning 100 octane into salt spray, noise, shits and grins, is lose lose lose, so you better have made profits in other areas of your life in order to be able to do that “non essential to survival” thing.

Being handed a filthy whore therefore only becomes a problem when you start making an investment of your time or energy or money to improve her, you will always end up in negative EROI.

Imagine spending your life teaching people how to fish for food, in the hope that once they learn they will go fishing with you and lighten your load, and all they all do without exception is immediately go somewhere else and start plying their trade as fishermen…. probably in competition with you.

This is the inevitable result of investing your time or effort into a slut.

So, “Hey AfOR, where do you find all these sluts willing to drive two hours to your place just so they can stick their tongue up your ass and reaffirm their zero net worth in both your eyes and theirs?”

in a Mr T accent, Look around you sucker.

Same place I find these 500 dollar cars that I run for 3 years with no maintenance, right under your fuckin’ noses, I see em for what they are, you however treat them all as fixer uppers and a week later have blown 500 on a stereo, 500 on paint and 500 on wheels, suddenly you have a 2,000 dollar car that looks like a 200 dollar car, and every flaw screams out at you.

I dunno, in the Trayvon / Zimmerman trial, the star witness for the persecution, hell man, I would have (had I been any of the lawyer types there) stood up and said I was Frito Pendejo, and Zimmerman was guilty because he talked like a fag, oh, and he interrupted me while I was watching Ow My Balls!

But that’s why I am not a lawyer, and that is why I can find skanky sluts everywhere I look, and 500 buck beaters that last me 3 years.

I’m not looking to fix anything up, so I see what is before my eyes, and if it has utility….

December 28, 2012

Noises

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:40 pm

There are noises that the wimminz make when being fucked, and I am a fucking god at this shit, so I do NOT mean the ooh ahh oh god baby stuff that they ALL do… I’m talking about the noises that I can make maybe one in twenty wimminz make.

The little involuntary and entirely non-verbal squeals.

The little squeals that do not coincide exactly with your thrusting in or out or anything else, when you get these invariable it is some of the best sex you get, because she is into you in a big way, and then you have a positive feedback loop.

I’ve got a mate, he is back in the UK again now, broke, but about ten years ago he started to get into porn, then kinky porn, then extreme porn, but all in a very fringe / amateur sort of way, and while there was money involved he was in it for the kicks, not the money, so think private email lists and DVD distribution, not the commercial houses.

I can remember at the time we had a lot of discussions about the fact that the way he was working was, in methodology of distribution and revenue earning, pretty fucking close to kiddie porn, and they throw the fucking key away for that shit… and then they brought in a new law that made a lot of previously legal porn illegal, so matey departs to foreign shores.

He ends up in Bulgaria making bestiality porn, same business methods but now there is HD and the ability to stream shit from servers as torrents as well as posting DVD’s to customers.

Being western bestiality porn pretty much = wimminz + dogs, you have to leave it to the japs and south americans for the other animals in the menagerie.

So he’s back, this is about six weeks ago, and we are talking, and of course the talk comes around to a couple of the wimminz that regularly featured in his “work”, you have to remember that while I knew him, and a couple of the wimminz, I never actually got involved beyond that, so it wasn’t like discussing Die Hard.

His main squeeze, the one he went to Bulgo with, was a pretty thang, but like all young wimminz very self centred, I fucked her once and it was purely average, he said the same thing, but the camera did love her, and vice versa, and anyway they were pretty much an item,  and turns out it was at HER behest that things moved on to bestiality, and because she wouldn’t give it up that they both moved to Bulgo and started to do just beasty stuff.

So we are there talking and I look at him, because he has just told me about noises, this bitch, without fail, made *those* noises when she was being mounted by a dog, and he goes on to tell me that in his opinion that is why their “label” was so successful, this bitch was not just happy, but delighted, for all that stuff to stay in and not get dropped on the editing room floor.

Plenty of other wimminz came along and did one shoot or two or three, enough for a DVD, and they all made those noises too, but wanted them cut in editing, but of course they got copies of all the raw unedited stuff for their own use…. and enjoyment.

You have to remember, I knew the main wimminz we are both talking about here, I have fucked her too, and I am having a hard time equating this squealing bitch he is describing with the quite pretty but very self centred wimminz I knew, and who I saw him with socially when they were together and I’d visit.

I hadn’t really made the connection that there were some men, or some mammals, that could make an individual wimminz make those noises, but the majority wouldn’t, I guess I had sort of assumed that most of the guys who had been there before me had made them make those noises too…. and then a penny dropped, every wimminz I have lost interest in, but who has been available for me to fuck in an ongoing manner if I so chose, was one who did NOT make those little noises.

Of course HIS kick was once Rin Tin Tin had made her squeal like a piggy, she was up for anything HE wanted, the rest of the time he told me the sex with her was pretty much as I remembered it with her.

I’m kind of discussing this with the guy and so I eventually sort of wave my hands at him, and the flat he has moved back into here in the UK, and ask, so what the fuck happened dude?

Well, it turns out she was not just 50% of the “business” in terms of output, but she was also the draw for the other wimminz who came along and did one off DVD’s, and it turns out the money went the same way, it was always a 40 buck (always in dollars) DVD, split 50/50 between the “actress” and the house, the house being him, so of course all the expenses came out of his cut, and then the credit card companies started to get pissy, so he had to have legit companies owning less legit companies, which made customers more wary because they were buying a DVD from “Nasty Bestiality Inc” but credit card payments were going to “ACME Software Inc” of Turkey, and next month to “Roadrunner Mousetrap Inc” of Greece, which put his expenses up, to the point where they are barely scraping a living.

So what happend next? I asked him.

Well, turns out they met this guy who was holidaying in the area, they hung out for a bit, next thing he knows she is telling him this guy has sent her a one way plane ticket to France.

The kick, the guy runs a kennels in France, boarding and breeding, oh, and he has money too.

So long and thanks for all the dog.

By then he is so deep in the shit financially he loads up the car and does a midnight flit from Bulgo, last thing he does on his last night is take all the hard disks containing the production work to date and put them in a 45 gallon drum with a gallon of gasoline and a pile of wood and watch it burn while drinking zagorka, cos that shit is a criminal conviction and prison sentence in western europe.

All I can do is look at him and grin and say “shiiiit” and raise the bottle in a toast.

“Fuck it” he says, “it was good while it lasted”

the little noises a wimminz makes when she is REALLY enjoying the sex.

Thing is, he was right, if I run the VT in my head in rewind, all the sex I ever had where wimminz did NOT make those little noises with me is sort of blurred and indistinct and vague, and where they DID make those noises it is sort of blurred and indistinct but NICE and an undercurrent of them being pretty and sexually attractive and PWHOAR and all that jazz, but for those wimminz, I can’t remember much about them the rest of the time, when we weren’t fucking and they weren’t making those little noises.

Thing is, the thing he and I both missed, those wimminz who DID make those little noises with me, they were never any of the wimminz who pledged love and allegiance and wanting a long relationshit with me.

I’m still puzzling that one out, did giving them those noises make them more honest and less likely to bullshit me into a relationshit?

I do know this, my mate says by far his most popular titles were not the ones with the 2,000 buck camera, which they all had, or when he got the 2,000 buck lenses, or when he got the 2,000 buck editing software, they were when he got the 2,000 buck mikes and pointed them at the bitch’s face and cunt to capture those little noises in high quality, and overlay them synced properly with the squelchy cunt sounds, he also says the most popular scenes were those showing nothing but her face, nothing in the least porno about that, but the look on her face as she made those sounds, captured in high quality audio.

I haven’t seen those scenes either, and chances are you haven’t either, but I know exactly what he meant.

For some reason I cut to Independence Day, where they are uploading the virus to the mothership… those little noises wimminz make, they are the virus to the red pill mothership.

Actually it’s worse than that, the red pill mothership has code spaces especially built in, ready and waiting for just such a virus, in much the same way it works in biology.

Actually it’s worse than that too, because the wimminz was just as much a carrier as us, she had no control over what would make her squeal like a piggy, so the first time it happens she can either run from it, or towards it.

All I know is I am grateful for small mercies, I haven’t had to go down the dog pound to find a wimminz that could make those noises for me… I had enough fucking problems with just wimminz and me and a bed…. lol

That, and me never white knighting and defending the bitches from the consequences of the drives given to them by their cunt…. no responsibility without authority is my motto.

 

December 27, 2012

Perceptions, illusions and reality.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 4:08 pm

It is tempting, and quite common in sci-fi, and indeed religion, to talk about humans as being flawed or without hope or destined to fuck up with annoying regularity.

This portrayal does not however withstand any kind of scientific scrutiny whatsoever.

When you look at humanity as a whole scientifically, all the things that I whine about on this blog are just a part of the whole, we are not a perfect system, what we are is an EVOLVING system, and part and parcel of evolving systems is they need to fuck up with regularity in order to weed out the crap, and retain the good.

The technology of modern western culture is good, the stuff absorbed into the body humanity, the sociology of modern western culture is crap, the steaming turd extruded from the anus.

Thankfully the days when the wimminz compare me to 50 shades of grey are passing, but again there is a lesson there, in the constantly changing values of sexual sluttishness that they will exchange for my company, or your company, or the ex’s company… and of course the one constant that the wimminz all pull out from 50 shades, that Ana is in love with Christian, but Christian is unable to love Ana, or anyone else…

All these things above are DYNAMIC structures in a state of evolution and change.

It may suck in the worst way possible to be a particular INDIVIDUAL in such a scenario, but for the species as a WHOLE things are going great thanks.

10 million deaths in a global war or pandemic is an awful thing for those involved, as awful as it gets, but for the species as a whole, it’s a good thing.

Losing a child with a congenital defect is an awful thing for the parents, but a good thing for the species, and so we get into the quicksands of eugenics vs evolution, I want to fuck Fred’s daughter and make her pregnant, not Sambo’s daughter, how much of that is me practising eugenics and how much is hard wired evolutionary imperatives forced upon me?

We are due a war or a global pandemic or maybe both, does it really matter to those who will die, or those who will live, if this is caused by some banker, or some politician, or some corporate type, when all of these and more are just the tail wagging the dog of evolutionary pressures?

It’s all rather chicken and egg, and all rather academic, it is like discussing if it was a red on blue bullet or a blue on blue bullet that just went through your buddy’s head and sprayed you with his brains, the effects are identical.

Surviving it is going to be rather academic too, your survival will either depend on something directly associated with the selection, such as a genetic trigger if it is a pandemic, or indirectly associated, such as a state of health if it is a pandemic, or vaguely associated, such as not being in a climate where the outbreak can thrive.

I cannot, Gattaca style, doing anything about my DNA, but I can do something about not being around in close proximity when the red and blue bullets start to fly.

Yugoslavia was a great place to be, until it fell apart, then it was a crap place to be. Being born there isn’t something you can change, STAYING there when TSHTF is something you probably can change, at a great cost for sure, but probably less cost than staying put.

A fat ugly skank who you can only bear to fuck doggy style and who you have no use for apart from the fucking is a lot less, sexually, than a harem of hot kinky sluts begging to do your bidding.

On the other hand, a fat ugly skank who you can only bear to fuck doggy style is a great way to empty your balls while remaining immune to confirmation bias and post coital “well, she ain’t that bad actually” slippery slopes…

Ultimately, on the macro scale, evolution and change will always win, ultimately, on the individual scale, vast swathes will be fed, alive and feet first, into the meat grinder of evolution and change.

Ultimately, on the individual scale, we are all dead anyway, it is just better to die of old age waiting your turn at the grinder than being fed into it.

Ultimately, on the individual scale, if you know for a fucking fact you’re headed for the meat grinder in the very near and not merely foreseeable but pretty much inevitable future, you may as well take some of the assholes who fucked you over with you.

In between these two lies the entirety of human society and history.

Knowing where you are in the space between these two, or even being able to influence your relative position between these two, that, my friends, is the secret, either be the stainless steel rat hiding in the walls, or Pol Pot… it’s living in the vast middle ground that will get you unawares.

 

December 18, 2012

AWALT v NAWALT

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 5:03 pm

I often get a lot of emails and stuff, and recent posts seem to have suggested to certain sectors of my readership that I have an new and special wimminz in my life, and am about to renounce AWALT in favour of NAWALT.

I meet all kinds of wimminz, from the outrageous sluts / skanks / psychos through all the variations and hamster wheel rationalisations in a form of pyramid where the better the quality the wimminz, the rarer she is.

Yes, it is true to say that currently there is a wimminz in my sphere that is in many ways pretty fucking exceptional, exceptional enough for me to respect somewhat and care for somewhat.

For the purposes of this post we will call her “Jane”you-see-that-its-a-kitchen-now-get-back-in-it-sad-hill-news

Does this make her NAWALT?

Does it fuck…

It is not even this exceptionally good wimminz own personal qualities and attributes that determines whether or not she is a NAWALT, she is, sadly, an AWALT, because this is the only sane response, because in every way that matters she is the same as the depths of the slutty skanky psycho skank ho pool.

Fact is, as a human being, this particular wimminz is about as far removed from my FRA wielding psycho skank ho ex as you can get and still have tits and a cunt.

Fact is, in law, and therefore status with respect to me, this particular wimminz is absolutely identical in every way to my FRA wielding psycho skank ho ex.

The ONLY FUCKING THING THAT MATTERS is what it says on her birth certificate and mine in the bit where it lists the sex of the baby, if it says “female” then it trumps “male” in the law, every time, every area, no exceptions.

But wait, it gets worse.

The only changes I can make to the relative status of myself, and ANY wimminz, is to marry the bitch, and the only changes that makes are negative ones for me…

She gets power of attorney, ownership of all my shit (and you will know what that shit feels like when you come home one day and find your darling wife tried to sell your harley while you were away, and only your mate prevented it by being smart enough to claim he was owed 50% of the value of the bike in work and so had a prior lien) priority (over me) access to all my shit, and in return I get liability for all debts and mortgages and loans in her name, even if they were taken out by her before I ever met the bitch.

Speaking frankly, if there were ANY justice in the law, any man marrying a wimminz would be excluded for all of the above by way of insanity, but the law plays it the other way and deems the man insane and therefore the wimminz should be placed in charge of all of his shit, and his future earning and reproductive capacity, and his life and liberty.

It’s not the brand new showroom jaguar with delivery miles that will get ya, it’s the 200k mile clunker that is what you get when you split up, and she decides allegations of DV / FRA is an easy way to get custody. They ALL turn into 200,000 mile clunkers the instant you split.

However, there are three vital things you need to grasp;

  1. I can never change the bit on my birth certificate that says “male”
  2. I can never change the law.
  3. I can never escape from all interaction with wimminz.

I might as well complain about gravity of the orbit of the earth, tilting at windmills…

So what is left?

What is left is dealing with reality.

I treat “Jane” in exactly the same way I treat the skankiest pump and dump cumslut that I will voluntarily interact with for kinky sex, I still archive all my SMS messages with her to the cloud, I still archive all my emails with her to the cloud, I still archive my location (Smartphone with GPS and Google Latitude / Location history) to the cloud, and google calendar, to the cloud, I just turn all that shit up to 11.

I make sure everything is littered with exculpatory evidence should there ever be a future allegation of DV or more… see point #3 above, and stories of random men being selected by wimminz as their alleged rapist…. “jane” is my fucking alibi, both against any putative future allegations by her, and against any putative future allegations by any other wimminz.

Single men be “creepy”

“Jane” is camouflage.

The only thing that astonished me is that this shit is not so obvious to so many readers who felt compelled to either tell me that I was not a real MRA any more or trying to warn me about the pussy trap or falling for NAWALT.

My bro back in the day was smarter than that when the wife (now ex of course) turned up with the guy she had sold my harley to, zero advance warning and he knew the only fucker taking my bike away from where I left it was me, and if he just said no she would call the po-lice to get “her” property.

I was smarter than that when I knew I was going away for a bit, so didn’t leave my only valuable possession of my own at “home” in her “care”

I wasn’t dumber when I hooked up with the psycho skank ho ex (not the same as the harley incident ex) it is just that the technology wasn’t fucking around then.

Now it is.

 

 

 

November 21, 2012

Judge a man (and a wimminz) by his actions, not his words.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:51 pm

Ironically 24 hours after saying “I have nothing else to say” and thus taking any pressure to say anything off, something happened that caused me to have something to say…

That something is a sense of deja vu, but not quite.

Some 20 odd years ago three separate wimminz came up to me and said “I am pregnant, and it is yours” over a period of 48 hours, so I arranged separately for all three to meet me at a bar at 7 pm sharp, which they did, whereupon I introduced them all to each other, told them all that each said they were pregnant with my child, and that they now need to work out amongst themselves which one I was going to marry.

So here I am, 20 odd years later, and three separate wimminz have come up to me in the past week and basically pledged their love and desire to have a permanent relationshit with me.

Being 20 years older and wiser I’m not about to tell them all to meet me in a bar at 7pm and sort it out…. remember I am a guy in my early fifties, been through the wringer of FRA and kids and assets abducted by psycho skank ho ex and the secret family courts, po-lice, lawyers etc all sticking their nose in the trough.

  1. Wimminz #1 is 40, not the prettiest thing on the planet, works in the health sector, kids flown the nest, been banging her on and off for a year or so, she will do anything I want, but it has to be said she don’t light my fire sexually any more, been there, done that, tick it off, but she is keen and obedient and all that. She has ridden the cock carousel of course.
  2. Wimminz #2 is just over 30, nothing to look at, badly overweight, works in a social services type of job, drinks too much, kids at home, and frankly doesn’t get it. Worth dumping my cum into but that’s about it. She has ridden the cock carousel of course.
  3. Wimminz #3 is just over 30, actually quite fucking hot, overweight but fairly recently and you can still see the solid 9 inside dying to get out, works in sales, no kids. Has ridden the cock carousel but not nearly as much as #1 and #2.

So, there we have it.

What is interesting is this;

  • From the perspective of my cock throbbing, #3 gets the vote.
  • From the perspective of letting me get away with shit, #2 gets the vote.
  • From the perspective of actually doing shit for me, #1 gets the vote.

To be strictly fair, from the perspective for example of doing shit for me #1 has had more time to do more, but has also had more time to fuck up, and hasn’t yet.

To be strictly fair, from the perspective of me just being me, spending a life with #2 would be desperately tedious, her work is everything that is wrong with the country, spending a life with #1 would be ok-ish, her work is valid and good, but nothing I can do or relate to, spending a life with #3 would be fun, her work is neutral but her attitudes and approaches and ethics are something I can relate to.

I’ll give you another one, #1 hates the word cunt, #2 doesn’t use it but doesn’t cringe when I do, #3 loves it and uses it as much as I do.

I’ll give you another one, #1 and #2 are the product of broken homes and crap early relationships that resulted in bastard offspring, #3 has a mummy and a daddy and they are still married to each other.

I’ll give you another one, #3 has by far and away the most expressive face, every thought and emotion that crosses her brain is already written all over her face. #1 and #2 keep stuff hidden and wear masks.

I’ll give you another one, none of these things up above is unrelated.

Has AfOR fallen out of the MGTOW / AWALT tree and landed on his small head?

No, he has not, and he is well aware that the current legal landscape is such that all three can fuck him up in an instant and on a whim were he married to any of them or in a co-habiting relationshit with any of them.

But the fact is that that text in bold above is the secret to #3’s relative lack of negative traits and aspects, everything else comes from that, and so while #1 and #2 talk about long term relationshits (which in the eyes of the law are the same as a fucking marriage) leading to marriage, while #3 talks about marriage….

#3 wants what mummy and daddy have.

#1 and #2 wanting what mummy and daddy have is like a blind man wanting a red house, they don’t even know what the fuck it is.

Judging a man, or a wimminz, by their actions means also judging them by the actions of those whose company they kept, voluntarily in later life, involuntarily in earlier life.

In much the same way that as a time served engineer I have little in common with so called engineers who learned their trade in a college or university or any other way, as a time served child of a mother and father who remained married to each other I have little in common with #1 and #2, and much in common with #3

As a time served engineer I had it easy, compared to my father, back in his day the parents LITERALLY paid the employer / master to take then on for the first year, because a first year apprentice is literally less than useless and literally decreased the output and productivity of the master, but compared to the modern engineering “apprentice”…. makes me puke they dare call themselves that word, shades of “A year ago I couldn’t even spell engineer, and now I are one”

The first engineering tools I had to master were the fucking broom and the kettle, I shit you not.

Then you get given an old “whistler” kettle and the gas axe (oxy acetylene cutting torch) to boil the water for the tea, there is a stock of these for sale to you for exactly one day’s wages each, for when you blow through the bottom of the kettle and all the water leaks out… or… you can grab to scrap from the gash bin and try to “fix” the kettle you just blew a hole through so it will hold water and bring it to the boil with a gas axe.

Then you get given some lumps of soft gash metal, cheap shit like zinc anode material or babbit metal than can be re-melted and re-used, and a metal file and a hacksaw, with ONE fucking blade, and a brass brush to clean the file and saw blade, and a metal vice and a place at a bench.

First make a perfect one inch cube, accurate to ten thou…. that takes you about four fucking days, you learn hands on about materials science, differences in hardness and friction between differing metals such as files, saw blades and the gash, you learn that every time you put the gash in the vice and tightened the vice you deformed it, you learned to file flat and saw straight and square.

Pleased with yourself that the task given to you on a Monday morning has been completed by Friday lunchtime, you are given some more gash metal, this time you must make TWO pieces, one is a U shape and one is a T shape, so that the T shape fits in the U shape perfectly to form a much bigger piece, oh, and you have to be able to rotate the T and U shape with 180 degree symmetry so they fit together perfectly BOTH ways…. no gaps anywhere you can get a ten thou feeler gauge into….. that takes two or three weeks

Failing in these tasks is the end of your apprenticeship, you can fuck off and be a fitter or a grease monkey or a car mechanic…. meanwhile you still have to practice with the broom and the kettle.

Got any lip? I dunno how often I have seen strong tough full of piss and vinegar good in a fight 13 and 14 stone all muscle apprentices punched in the mouth by a 10 stone skinny fucker in their forties or fifties for giving some lip, and they learned they may have double the muscle mass of the old fart, but the old fart was all HARD muscles that basically spent 8/10 hours a day in the “gym” of the shops, that and sinew and bone… apprentices all had broken teeth, me included. On the other hand I still have all my limbs and fingers and toes, which was the result of those lessons not to lip your elders and betters and FUCKING LISTEN.

So I tell some young cunt today who thinks they are time served that it took me 4 weeks to learn how to use a fucking file and a hacksaw, and it is like the blind man wanting a red house or the modern #1 or #2 wimminz wanting a relationshit.

The young shits not only do not know how to use a file or hacksaw, they cannot even begin to judge or guess how much they do not know, or how greatly that lack impacts EVERY SINGLE OTHER ASPECT of their so called professional skill.

#3 may be just over half my age, but she was time served, old school, growing up in a house with a mummy and daddy who were married to each other and stayed together.

Sure, #3 is AWALT, same as #1 and #2, which I can’t respect, but #3 is old school time served, which I can.

Out of respect for #3’s time served status ALONE, I would not put her in a bar with #1 and #2 and tell all three to work it out between themselves.

On a related note, I know it doesn’t seem that way at first blush, I hear from emails that YET AGAIN Bill over at the Spearhead is holding the fucking begging bowl out.

Judge a man (or a wimminz) by their actions, not what they say.

November 12, 2012

Being 3L337

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 8:49 am

In shades of surreality where Jesusifying Obama’s speeches renders them more sensible than the original, well, it would if you could jesusify anything any more…

And so it is In The Red Pill World With The Wimminz Of PoF (and dang if that don’t make a good porn film title) that bizarrely the more you overdose on red pills, the more the kind of wimminz you want to be avoiding avoid you, and the more the other kind of wimminz be dropping all the pretence and bullshit and saying “Fuck me Master! Please…”

Yes, I am the first to admit that it is all fucked up, but then again everything is all fucked up.

So in the daily fail today is a story about a “high flyer” wimminz who is divorcing her husband because he WON’T do the shit in 50 shades with her… red pill heaven right there…

And so it is with the wimminz in the rotating PoF “harem”, they don’t have a problem being number 7 of 14 in the harem, and they don’t have a problem with being the only wimminz in my life, what they have a problem with is being told one while the other is happening, and of course if they were the only wimminz in my life they would have a problem with that too.

Biggest mistake you can make is not giving wimminz what they want, what they say they want, refusing to give them what they want, what they say they want, it is treating them as rational thinking human beings.

Frankly speaking a lot of the so-called abusive, manipulating and distant behaviour as described in divorce proceedings and laid at men’s door is the only way to treat wimminz without being fucked over at the first hurdle.

Fact is one of the most effective tactics I have discovered is grab your everything archived to the cloud android smartphone, pull up a few pictures of #4 because she is a lot hotter than #7, who is giving you the shit test / whining thing, and show these pictures to #7 and tell her you were with #4 an hour ago.

Within 24 hours #7 is pledging lust and love and calling you sir and offering booty call any time you like any way you like.

Course, the INITIAL reaction is different, if you can have her why do you want or need me, hope you’re both happy together… the correct response is “You work it out girl” and close the subject and kick her out.

Like I say, within 24 hours you get the all you can eat free poon buffet.

24 hours after that you’ll get the “do you wanna meet my kids?” thing, which you ALWAYS dodge, no babe, I ain’t rushing into anything, slow ahead both, steady as she goes.

Now she is almost begging you to take up the offers of free poon.

Which brings me to a reader question from a wimminz…

“Why are so many men preferring doggy style?”

The answer comes in two parts;

  1. Most of you wimminz no longer have hard flat bellies, so it’s more comfortable and you get better penetration that way
  2. So we don’t have to look at your fucking face or gut

If I was your average MRA type I’d leave it there, but this blog is meant for men, not wimminz, so you get the rest of the answer too.

  • Because it stops you looking at our faces and being able to read us.
  • Because it is a submissive position for you.
  • Because it makes your asshole handily available too.
  • Because doggy style is singularly appropriate for a bitch
  • Because frankly speaking your cunt and ass is your best feature
  • etc

Plus of course do it right doggy style and she will be begging for doggy style forever-more, it is the natural mammalian way to mate, and orients the cock and cunt the right way around.

Which brings me to another email, this time from a bloke, who says “I can’t get over this feeling that there is something wrong with me if I don’t have a girlfriend, and that I have failed if a girl dumps me or refused my advances”

Well, your problem lies in two parts, both of them are you taking blue pills.

  1. This idea that your own personal worth is somehow sweet fuck all unless a wimminz endorses you by hanging off your arm.
  2. This idea that a wimminz not wanting to be with you reflects negatively on you.

Fact is, wimminz are parasites, so if they want you for anything more than being your cum bucket, eg being seen out with you, then it is a parasite and host thing, and being a host to a parasite may well keep you in company, but it is nothing to bray about… it is just advertising your beta status.

Your problem then is not so much who you are or what you are, but how you treat wimminz, you are treating them way wimminz SAY they want to be treated, and lo and behold it is getting you nowhere.

Getting negged and put down by a wimminz is like getting negged and put down by a 5 year old, if the little shits had any class or brains at all they would be hanging on to your every word, no son, all that shit about what is better, the Mustang or the Charger (or indeed the Caprice shooting brake for shopping…lol) is a crock, this is better.

 

November 4, 2012

You can’t wind back the clock / things were different man.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 5:52 pm

Time is a funny fucking thing, especially when looking back upon it in your own personal life and history.

I cannot, with any shred of honesty, look back on myself at 25 and state that I was the same person I was then, and when I was 50… to be sure I can say I aged pretty fucking well, despite all the lifestyle, and I can in many ways favourably compare myself with a modern 25 year old in 2012, but, there are still huge differences.

Some things in life fluctuate over time, such as the age at which a child becomes an adult, and the age at which an adult retires, and one of the walls you hit is the one that states if you have a kid NOW, you will be a fucking pensioner before that kid is an adult.

Other things you become aware of is the realisation that murderers get separated from their family and society for a shorter period of time than young kids in an acrimonious separation / divorce, and whatever the future holds for those kids no-one can put time back in the bottle and give them the childhood they deserved, complete with both sets of parents and extended families.

One of the conversations that I keep having with young wimminz is the conversation about actions having future consequences, usually utterly predictable ones, and having to carry forwards the burden of whatever actions and choices you made in the past.

Wimminz are SPECTACULARLY crap at this, I will relate a story about a young wimminz who with toddler age kids who ends up with videos of her being gang-banged all over the internet, and the wimminz go all oh noes, but until I mention that in 10 years time those toddlers are going to be in school with the 2022 smart-phone and one of their classmates is going to walk up in the playground and show them videos of mummy being gang-banged… then the wimminz get SCARED… but until I mentioned it, it never occurred to them.

I had a chat with a young lad in his twenties last week, I used to roll with what he now calls the grey-beards, legends of old and 1% ers through and through, and I kept saying the same thing to him, things were different man.

And I find myself like some cross between Hunter and Hopper, a modern Mephistopheles who was lucky enough often enough to walk away unscarred and unscathed, trying to impart words of wisdom to the young buck, who is all “Wow, you were THERE for that legendary event” and far too fucking eager to cut me slack I do not deserve.

We’re sat there at the table, smokes and phones and keys and coffee.

I say to him “You know the old adage about there being no such thing as an unloaded gun?” He says yes, but I stress the point as he has little hands on experience, there ain’t no such animal as an unloaded gun.

He’s up to speed on that one so I reach out and tap one of the smartphones on the table and say “There ain’t no such thing as a digital device that ain’t recording”

I wait for that to sink in and add, “and that includes the digital devices you can’t see.”

That sinks in for a minute or two and I go all Hunter / Hopper on him again.

“This is the digital age man, this shit is everywhere, so common it is invisible, but it is there…” I take a sip of coffee and refer him back to some of those “you were there!” legends, and hit him with “… and I wouldn’t be fucking sat here now, if this digital shit was around back then… dig?”

Slowly, ever so slowly, the penny is dropping.

We only got away with that shit because it was organic, analogue and hand written or hand types paper records and hand filing, no instant recall or access to anything, a record search meant someone going into a cellar and going through boxes of paper files, by hand.

Back then I knew a guy who used to forge post office savings books, deposits and withdrawals and remaining balances were written by hand into a book, and then stamped, and this guy had some artistic talent and used a socket set to make the concentric rings of the stamp, forge a £5k balance, which was a lot of money back then, and go into a post office (not the same one where the deposits were allegedly made) in overalls and draw £300 a day and talk to the cashier about just having moved house and doing a mountain of renovations..

How far would that shit fly in the digital age?

Computer says you have no money.

And this applies across the fucking board.

Cut’s both ways too bro, if you were smart or lucky or crooked enough to get files altered during the transition to the digital age you were golden.

Computer says you have no history of violence.

Just as bad is when the computer records are fucked the other way.

Computer says you have a history of sexual abuse and domestic violence.

I tap the fucking smartphone again, say “Digital age” again, and look at one of the skanks there, and say “If you had been recording that night last week, instead of complaining to me about being assaulted, which frankly you bear 95% of the responsibility for creating the situation where it happened, Mr X would now be in prison on remand awaiting trial and guaranteed conviction and prison time for sexual assault”  Which would be wrong, because the whole truth is that everyone involves was drunk as a skunk and what’s more were all scum. Just because the guy was born with a penis however he would take the fall.

The digital age man, edited sections of a story are even more powerful than listening to or watching the whole tape…

So, back to the subject in question, and the two wimminz there who are available for pump and dump, but who want more from me.

The edited sections of the story that portray you as a decent young wimminz only work in scenarios where the man doesn’t give a fuck about the story, because you are pump and dump material.

The whole story is another matter, the whole story is what eventually comes out when you spend enough time with someone, and if the whole story involves you being pump and dump material in the past, no way you can expect the current man to see you as anything else.

Changing the story doesn’t change the person.

Just as the only way you get to hear about any legendary stuff we pulled back in the seventies is to listen to one of the greybeards, because that wasn’t a digital age.

It also means that very, very, very few of those stories could even happen today, and if they did, we wouldn’t be sat here grinning and shooting the shit.

It also means that the shit you DO pull today is gonna follow you around forever, for values of forever that fall short of mushroom clouds over what were once google data centres.

Not only can you not wind back the clock, you also can’t get away from digital surveillance and recording, and those data points never fade… what I typed in to a web forum in 2002 is as fresh as what I typed here a decade later in 2012.

The Jimmy Saville story isn’t really a story about privilege and fame and groupies and sexual exploitation, JS lived his life like groundhog day, HE never changed, it is really a story about how the changing technology changes the landscape.

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October 29, 2012

The problem with BBC

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 3:08 pm

Not the British Broadcasting Corporation, so not another article about bloody Jimmy Saville, but the other one, Big Black Cock.

See, the thing is, big black cock is attached to a black man, and as I have said many times here, I have far, far, far more in common with a black man than I do with a white woman.

So, what the fuck is it REALLY all about.

You never hear a wimminz say “I met this guy his name is Paul and we did that and he is like that and yadda yadda yadda” and somewhere at the end of it she lets slip something about him that leads you to think “Paul is a black dude“.

You always hear “black” right up front, as an intrinsic and major part of the deal, it is not “Paul, who happens to be black” in the sense of “Paul, who happens to be French“, it is instead always “black Paul”

And, let’s face it, it is always derogatory, fucking black cock is slumming it, in the gutter, same as fucking dog cock or horse cock, but unlike dog cock and horse cock black Paul’s cock is attached to Paul, a human being, a man, not a dog or a horse, and certainly not less than a wimminz.

It’s in the same sense you always get wimminz on swinging sites demanding an “8 inch plus cock” but I have never ever ever heard a man demand an “8 inch plus deep cunt“… these wimminz are reducing it to a piece of meat, something rented or bought by the pound weight, or by the yard length, or by the slumming gutter species.

So, BBC, Big Black Cock, never Big Black Cunt, what is it all about if you happen to be “paul”?

Well, “Paul” isn’t stupid, he knows EXACTLY why the white trash skank ho wants to fuck him, and it has to be said, that (insulting and racist) reason is exactly why his black male friends Tom, Dick and Harry won’t go anywhere near skanky white ho’s with their cock, because they don’t need the fucking attitude, go fuck a dog or a horse.

Paul, however, has a different attitude….

Paul also has herpes, so do two of his BBC fuckbuddies who regularly pull trains on skanky white sluts, his attitude is if some skanky white slut wants to get down in the barnyard with the animals, they deserve to get some diseases from the animals.

Paul and I discussed this, and I made some comment about spreding disease amongst the flocks, thanks man, lrfh… Paul looks and me and says OK, pull up a swinging site, so we do.

He’s right, we draw up two lists, I would / would not fuck that, and there are zero exceptions, I would not fuck anything he would, and he would not fuck anything I would.

His “would fuck” list consists entirely of wimminz too trashy and slutty for me to fuck, my “would fuck” list consists entirely of wimminz who would not fuck him simply because they do not find him attractive…

So far this is all very interesting, but then the conversation takes what is an unexpected turn for me, and this is why I decided to write about it here.

“Paul” looks at me and asks, “Have you ever fucked a black chick?”

Nope, never have, he asks me why not, “Dunno, just never really found them sexually attractive….”  not in any racist sense, just the same as clinically obese wimminz, they don’t set anything alight inside me sexually.

So he asks me if I ever been hit on by a black chick, oh yes, plenty times, just never felt the urge…

So there you go he says, one of those ways in which being a black man is different to being a white man, black chicks want white cock, this is of course after they have had their fill of black cock.

So then he tells me something else, the analogy to the too trashy and slutty to fuck white skank ho for black guys is the black chick who has worked her way through a mile of black cock and now craves white cock…. I guess my have my mouth open in surprise… he asks me where I think he caught herpes… banging some black chick who also craved white cock.

I am pondering this in my best Pinky and the Brain fashion, when he hits me with something else, “You know that stuff you wrote about the cat parasite in the brain that makes cat piss smell interesting to mice infected with it?” yup, toxoplasma gondii, “you know you say it is also in cat people’s brains, that’s why you have cat people and dog people” yup…

So he says, why should that be the only parasite or thing on the planet able to affect people’s behaviour?

What if there really is something in the inter-racial sex thing, once you go black you can’t go back, what if the fact that he only got the inter-racial sex thing AFTER fucking a wimminz who was into inter-racial sex isn’t just a coincidence? What if our respective “choices” in what were and were not fuckable wimminz were not choices, but like the cat piss parasite, some other parasite or agent was at work, affecting what we personally found attractive?

What about the parallels between the kind of aversion I felt for “cat wimminz” and “BBC wimminz”, maybe I feel a similar kind of aversion because there is a similar kind of agent at work?

Like Paul says, it doesn’t even have to be a parasite, simple transmission of an enzyme that subtly altered the brain biochemistry would do the same job, and the sharing of bodily fluids that is sex is a great way to share enzymes.

And then Paul reminds me of something I heard twenty years ago but had clean forgotten, your own individual DNA is not immutable and set it stone, it can and does change as you go through life, not just methylation, but also point mutation, frame shift mutation, deletion, insertion, inversion and expression / transcription errors.

It turns out even 15 minutes of exercise or a cup of coffee can affect the methylation of our DNA, and if a cup off coffee can do this, what about 20+ years of exposure to the contraceptive pill + phthalate packaged foods + moisturisers + eye liners + steroids in cows milk + perfumes?

Maybe all I am doing is reacting to the BBC wimminz in EXACTLY the same way I react to the clinically obese, the drug addict, the alky wimminz, maybe at some instinctive biochemical level I am reacting negatively to “infected”.

In closing, Paul hits me with an interesting thought, he knows I never eat cunt (he does), and he knows I am a dog person not a cat person, so he wonders what would happen if his lab (Paul is a research biochemist) got funding to do research into possible connection between wimminz with toxoplasma gondii parasite infection in the brain, wimminz who like having their cunt eaten, wimminz who like to “gush”, wimminz who like the BBC / BWC / inter-racial sex……

You can’t eat cunt without exposing yourself to the wimminz urine, and if the wimminz urine contains toxoplasma gondii….. “how’s about that then?“

October 26, 2012

You go to the zoo to see an african lion, and the White House to see a lyin’ african

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:14 pm

When a wimminz (or indeed anyone) asks you, “So, do you have any kids?” What do you say?

More to the point, why is the question “do you have any kids?” and not “are you a mum/dad?”

These are not two ways of asking the same question, they are two very different questions, yes I have kids, no I’m not a dad, not my choice, but, shrugs…

You can sit in someone’s home, even if they aren’t there, and just tell if they are a dad, but you can’t tell if they have kids, and the whole question is really a bit of deliberate mutual self deception.

Question such as these, that say one thing but ask another, and which normally expect an equally false and deceptive answer that says one thing but not another, are in many ways a dance, where the wimminz are concerned.

The dance is as deceptive as the questions, because the dance is all about the biggest unasked question of all…

“Look, we both know I am a lying slut, I’m just trying to work out what lies I can tell that you will know are lies, but which you won’t call me on, so we can pretend they are true for a little bit, and fuck, which is what I’m here for.”

So, the correct answers… F=female M=male

F “Got any kids?”

M “mmmmm yeah baby”

F “How many?”

M “do you really care baby?” get on up, I’m a sex machine, get on up.. etc

and the in-correct answers

F “Got any kids?”

M “Yeah, you?”

F “Yeah”

M “So who’s looking after them now?”   screeech..

Again, you see, the subtext or alternate text is the one that counts, and the uttered words are pretty much just dust in the wind.

So now I want to move on to something completely different, but in some ways with many similarities.

The manosphere is replete with example of wimminz saying one thing and doing another, hamster wheel rationalisations, and guys shaking their heads and saying…..

WHY WHY WHY, if only the wimminz did THIS instead of THAT, not only would they win, but we would too, and we would love them, and …..

Well, that’s not what Nature likes.

Nature likes dynamic and opposing forces and inherent instability, just like a high performance fighter jet, the high performance comes from the fact it is closer to instability than stability.

Ying and Yang baby, there is nothing wrong with making wimminz one way, and making men a different way, and having a recipe for sparks to fly.

The problem starts when you make the wimminz way legal, and the man way illegal, which is what we have today.

So the problem is not that wimminz do THIS instead of THAT, the problem is now we have laws that say wimminz can do THIS or THAT or any fucking thing they please, and they never get to suffer the consequences.

However, this isn’t a problem that can be fixed by whining about it, nor is it a problem that can be fixed by rolling back a bunch of laws…. you need a time machine too to roll back all the shit they pulled.

The fix is more like a blues song, we put it in, and it gots to come out, let that boy on his own….

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

Fuck it, listen to the two track above again, they make more sense between them than I ever will, and if you think they were born out of anything but strife, you need to wake up and smell the fucking coffee.

 

October 25, 2012

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You can read her like a book, remember.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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