“Letting your balls drop and overcoming approach anxiety; developing inner game and growing into the sort of man who deserves a top-notch woman.  Becoming well-read, becoming successful, and learning how to touch her inner core so that she swoons.”

(highlight mine)

OK, it’s a quote, taken out of context, and all that jazz… but…

That bit I highlighted, fucking LEAPS out at me man, in ways that the makers of Jaws in 3D can only dream about.

The skank I mention a couple of pieces back, that tried to pull a freakout shit test on me so I kicked her to the kerb, of course she is back, with an attitude readjustment, begging for permission to lick my nutsack.

I was explaining this to a guy, must be a year or two ago now, we got onto the subject of rimming, which is one person sticking their tongue up another person’s asshole and licking like a bear at a honeypot.

So I said “yeah, I get chicks to do that to me“, and he was like all horrified and disgusted and confused, and he looks at me and says “WHY, you don’t actually ENJOY it do you??!!“

I looked him in the eye and said yeah, I do, but THAT ain’t the fucking point, the fucking point is getting the bitch to do it willingly, and the point of that was they are a thousand times more willing AFTER they have tried to pull a shit test on you, and been epically kerbed and shitcanned.

This is the nature of teh wimminz, like a very bad employee who pulls a shit test and starts demanding a huge wage rise, flexi-time, oh, and a company car.

Just write the cunt a note saying YOU’RE FIRED.

They’ll beg to come back for a lower wage than they were getting, and will offer to clean the toilets for free.

Woe betide you if you do NOT make them clean those toilets every day, and make a point of pissing on the floor before they do, if you fail to do so, THAT is when you lose their respect.

They are still a fucking crap employee, but at least they have been put in their place, no messing…

…and it is in this context that you have to examine and approach this rather bizarre idea of a “top-notch woman“ as quoted above…

The skank I kicked to the kerb is still a skank, she just knows her place better now, and her place is with her tongue up my ass, not making words to shit test me with… puppy craps on floor, puppy gets nose rubbed in it.

Subtracting a small portion of the crap from something crap doesn’t make it good, pulling the exhaust catalyst and shite from a 2013 ZL1 Camaro doesn’t suddenly turn it into a good car, it is still a crap car.

It’s like “high class whore“, it’s a fucking oxymoron, and should have no place whatsoever in the lexicon of men.

If I suck Obama‘s cock for a million dollars, are you going to talk about me as a high class whore, or “that guy that blew Obama”… but like a couple of USMC guys, who will forever be “that guy that held Obama’s umbrella“… fucking shameful and we all know it, and we all know how easy it would be to start a bar fight by saying that to either of our faces, so you know we know it too.. lol

AWALT does not just mean all wimminz are lying deceitful fruit cakes, AWALT also means everything else, including “ain’t none of them worth a stream of piss”, ain’t none of them “high class”, ain’t none of them “top-notch”.

I got a fucking brass zippo and a buck 110, had em both longer than any wimminz ever lasted, way, way, way fucking longer.

A “top-notch” wimminz is one you’ll let your dog fuck, most wimminz are beneath that, not good enough to let your dog fuck, and yes I might be exaggeratin’ for effect, but I’m not kidding either, if y’see what ah mean heah…

Now, if you ask me which I rate higher, zippo and buck, or a good dog, now heah we have the basis to have a good ole’ discussion round this heah camp fire, if you ask me which I rate higher, wimminz or any of the above, then we goin’ see how well you burn on this heah fire boy, yessiree..

The issue here is simple, only by accepting that AWALT, which means a “top-notch woman” is as common as a 16 year old virgin with big tits riding a unicorn naked down Wall St at rush hour, can you ever learn that NO wimminz is worth anything, or anything more than any other wimminz, no exceptions, I have talked about this before…

Then, and only then, can you put the appropriate level of effort into your dealings with wimminz, eg fucking NONE, take it or leave it bitch, like I give a fuck one way or another, move along, next please…

Related articles

• Guest Post From A U.S. Marine About Barack Obama’s Shocking And Disgusting Use Of An Umbrella (wonkette.com)

There is an English comedian called Jack Dee, he specializes in a dry delivery, and 99.9% of his material I can take or leave, but away back when bungee jumping was the new rage and everyone was doing it, Dee made a very funny (to me) comment, it boiled down to “fuck bungee jumping, I wanna see bungee climbing, where they climb as far as they can up a cliff before the elastic yanks them back down.“

It made oi larf… indeed.

And I was reminded of it last night, when the latest wimminz, who had been putting on an act of reasonableness and sanity and sexual submission in a bid to ensnare me, reached that point where the tension on the bungee cord exceeded her ability to maintain her grip on the cliff face of the façade she was presenting, and snap, runaway hamster wheel accelerating away at ever increasing RPM towards bursting speed.

The process as usual is characterized by the wimminz reverting to type, and me feeling like a rather stupid and crazy four year old child was trying to manipulate me into doing buying them the ice cream, or whatever it was they wanted.

Of course me asking pointed questions like “What part of this insane behaviour do you think any man anywhere on the planet will look at, and decide he needs more of it in his life?“

Of course the “out of control” tantrums are anything but out of control, they may involve risky and stupid and asshole behaviour, but there has been an innate risk assessment performed, so inevitably it looks like what it is, very bad acting indeed.

Of course at this point lots of readers are going all oh noes, wot iz he doing, these wimminz be crazy, why doesn’t he stay away, no cunt is worth it.

Yeah, except these crazy bitches don’t vanish off the face of the planet if you refuse to have anything to do with them, so unless you are going to be  hermit, you are going to have to learn how to deal with them.

There is  world of difference between drawing a line and saying at THIS point I am no longer a participant bitch, just a fucking observer, and being INVOLVED, and it is the being INVOLVED that the above lunatic behaviour is, by some fruity wimminz logic, supposed to trick you into…

Think of a vehicle with a diesel engine starting to eat it’s own lube oil and run away…

Those who are INVOLVED in that vehicle stand waaaay too fucking close, and put themselves in harms way attempting to interfere and change the outcome, while those who are merely OBSERVERS distance themselves and digitally record.

So the bitch’s hamster wheel revs up to eeeek speed, and she plays the “you don’t want me to stay / appreciate me / look after me / love me” card, instead of saying “No baby please stay and I’ll make it up to you” I just give the shrug and say she is an adult, if she wants to go, go…

Bluff called she goes, only to engineer a reason to come back 10 minutes later, but of course, being a wimminz, this isn’t coming back calmed down and lesson learned, oh no, it is coming back doubled down on the crazy shit.

So I stand in the doorway and shrug again and ask her why she thinks any man in his right mind would let some crazy acting bitch into his home, this is of course met with disbelief, I am sooooo NOT responding the way all “good men” have been trained to respond to a pwincess in a tantrum, so she stomps off again, in even greater disbelief that I will not wescue da pwincess from a situation entirely of her own making.

“You are an adult, you are capable of making your own decisions, and suffering the consequences, if you choose to act like an insane bitch, it is your decision”

So she stomps off, proceeds to ring me every ten minutes for the next hour and a half, no worries it all goes to answerphone and when a sufficient quantity of calls have been received the number gets added to the reject list.

I chill some, get in to bed and sleep the night through, untroubled by dreams or drama or conscience.

The moral of this story, she was on a bloody good deal with me, but instead of seeing all the good bits, all she could see were the missing bits, so she focused on them, and kept doubling down in an attempt to manipulate me into doing them, result, she is back to no man, minus all the bloody good deal stuff she was getting,  and I didn’t lose a moment’s sleep over her transition from current squeeze to history.

Impatience, an inability to sustain the course or play the long term game.

This is what wimminz ARE

This is why you don’t let them in to your lives, you don’t introduce them to your circle of friends, you don’t tell them who your employer is, you don’t tell them your personal history, you don’t introduce them to your own family… these things by definition make you INVOLVED, not an OBSERVER.

This is why you pay no heed whatsoever to all the stuff people look at, she is old enough to have learned these lessons, all that jazz, wimminz are NEVER old enough to learn any lessons.

AWALT motherfucker, everything else is just a fucking act.

If people wanna go bungee climbing, fine, they are adults, their decision, just DO NOT GET INVOLVED.

You can fuck people without getting involved.

ALL WIMMINZ KNOW THIS

You can’t fuck someone and then do the insane pwincess, wescue poor widdle owd me, stunt with someone you are INVOLVED with.

You can’t make false accusations of rape and domestic violence against people you are INVOLVED with.

You can’t bail out of marriages and take people to the cleaners that you are INVOLVED with.

Sooner or later, ALL wimminz will pull this shit on you, and there is a 99.999% chance that it will happen right after you (accidentally) do something reasonable and treat them like a rational human being with feelings, and not a feral wild animal, and they will pull the epic shit test on your ass, as this psycho skank ho did to me last night.

I’m sorry (no, I’m not), you appear to have confused me with someone who gives a fuck whether I ever see you again or not…

She got it, you know, she really did get it, in the end there when the shit test failed epically and the tension in the bungee cord had just snatched her away from the cliff face, in that Wile E Coyote moment..

She said I was a stone cold bastard with zero feelings for anyone and an empty space where my heart should be.

Yeah, whatever, bitch…. I’d consider that high praise indeed, if it had come from someone I could respect.

Sooner or later… it’s not a lesson you can unlearn, thank fuck.

Plenty of red pillers will tell you to dump emotional and mental baggage, but something else is coming to pass in my life, I’m getting back to that stage where I am feeling the need to dump physical baggage.

Now, my trade was originally engineer, so I am not talking about throwing out my last 1/2″ AF spanner, but I am talking about a bunch of the other shit, some really cool, shit, but really cool shit that in reality I almost never use, really cool stuff that in reality, with the benefit of 20/20 hindsight, I only got into in the first place as a sort of comforter, because I knew the train I was on was destined for a slow motion wreck somewhere up ahead on a curve.

I use this same analogy when it comes to people and their data, if you have data stashed away on disks or backups that you haven’t even accessed in 12 months or more, chances are you are never going to actually NEED it, but unlike data, physical shit is a whole other ball game.

Let’s take my lathe, for some years now I have been going to convert this to CNC, as I did with the mill, and basically back along the way I bought it to do a specific job, and figured that even if I only broke even on the job, I got a free lathe, so the job paid for the tool, a thing I did many times back when I was engineering.

I have now had that lathe 6+ years, and apart from that initial job, I think I may have used it all of six times, all for pissy little do nothing jobs that I did in a lathe because it was there, but which I would have done by a different method if I did not have that lathe.

I have put that lathe into storage once, when my psycho skank ho ex first kicked off, and paid for storage for 2+ years, and I have moved it twice.

In addition, because I have a lathe (and other machine tools) I can’t just rent a small pad, instead I basically go looking for a small workshop with attached accommodations, and so in the end live in places I would not normally live in, and pass up living in places that I would otherwise be quite happy to live in.

Sure, you can say the lathe is an asset, but it is an asset that has cost me real money to keep over the years, and which has materially affected my lifestyle and accommodations over the years, and which basically has not earned me any fucking money on anything even remotely approaching break even for those expenses over the years.

Of course the old adage that if you want to buy X it will cost you a thousand bucks, but if you own X and want to sell it you’ll be lucky to see two hundred holds true.

Fact is, it has cost me more to KEEP this lathe than I paid for it, or than I would get selling it… and that is not a cost that is going to go away.

Frankly speaking I haven’t had any jobs that ___I___ wanted to do, that these tools allowed me to do, that otherwise I would not have been able to, what HAS happened is I have used them to do cheap ass jobs for friends and relatives, who would never pay full price for those jobs anyway.

So, in a real sense, the lathe is a Totem, it is a symbol of what I was trying to hold on to, back before it all went to shit… and like all symbols, they have a real and significant cost of upkeep.

In English culture there is a thing where someone with money builds a pointless and useless structure on their land, these were called follies, and it’s where the word comes from, it is a folly for a red pill man to hold on to and maintain totems, shrines to a former life.

The red pill is in reality much deeper than many people assume at first, you can’t take the red pill, look at all the shit you have, and NOT see that everything that you own can be taken away from you on a whim, with the stroke of a pen, by the same sorts of assholes that populated the secret family courts.

Nice lathe you have there man, say the bailiffs looking to collect cunt tax the courts ordered you to pay your psycho skank ho ex, and sure, you can go down the whole shit route of having that lathe owned by a company that is owned by a company that is owned by a company you own, and you just rent the fucker from the last company in the chain, but you’re just feeding the machine that fucked you over in the first place.

The red pill in reality is you just can’t own that much shit, the only thing the system doesn’t bother fucking with too much is the proverbial man of straw, and we already found out the so called protections from iniquity you were expecting to benefit from as an upstanding citizen were largely illusory anyway.

If it does not ALL fit into one load on a rented Ford Transit van, then brother, you have too much shit…

If not being surrounded with your shit leaves you with vague feelings of unease, insecurity and discomfort, then brother you haven’t fully absorbed the red pill into your system and psyche.

“Owning shit” and being a man of substance with a nice house full of nice shit was all part of the big con game anyway, just ask the people of Cyprus today, or anyone else in Europe later this year, whether by inflation or taxation or government decree or court order, it is all stripping you of your assets, and you get 5 cents on the dollar credit for it.

I guess that’s why I took so long to actually sit down and look at all my shit and do some sums about what I paid and what it cost me to keep and what it earns me and what I could sell it for, it took so long because I knew I wouldn’t like the answers.

Not because the answers were that I have already lost money on all that shit and it is never coming back, but because the answers were that it was all just a set of Totems, and if I actually intend to move along and continue to survive in this life, I have to quit worshipping the totems, and cut em down and roast some marshmallows.

It’s time to keep moving, stop being a slow / stationary target.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2319784/We-wish-dead-Three-children-blaze-killer-Melanie-Smith-reveal-abuse-suffered-mothers-hands.html

It won’t be news to any father reading this story that psycho skank ho mommy got custody of her own kids back along, no matter what daddy tried to to… it probably won’t even be news to any father reading this that dad and the kids now wish psycho skank ho mommy was dead.

This piece isn’t about that, it is not even about how psycho skanko ho mommy managed to do something so evil, setting fire to another wimminz and her kids in the flat upstairs (oh, and that wimminz’ beta male) killing them all, that the cunt pass couldn’t be invoked and she had to go to jail.

If isn’t even about the fact that one skanky old welfare queen killed a younger and fatter welfare queen and her womb turds.

No.

This piece is about all those cunts whose job basically depended on pandering to the psycho cunt’s feeeewings at every opportunity, no matter what the cost to anyone else or society, so police, secret family courts, child welfare, social services, social security, the whole fucking works.

Collectively, we all know this.

Which is why collectively, nobody actually believes in anyone or anything any more…. which is why the wheels are falling off the wagon.

I’ll be the first to admit, in many ways, since my of psycho skank ho ex threw me into the meat grinder of the secret family courts and false rape and DV allegations, I have been like Monty Python‘s norwegian blue parrot in the parrot sketch, lying on the floor of my cage, either stunned or dead, depending on your perspective.

Partially this is because of the trauma itself, it takes time for the brain and body and soul to heal, but partly because the trauma itself is like waking up on the operating table, waking up in the twilight zone, waking up in the matrix, it forces you to see a lot of the shit around you in the world.

And seeing all THAT, that takes some more time to assimilate and percolate and absorb…

Got a “friend”, not a good buddy or a bro, just a guy, but he’s ok, works in a local harley dealership… now you gotta remember I have been riding HD since back along, on and off, shovels and pans, fairly factory stock FXE to fairly radical only factory thing remaining is the motor and trans hardtail chops… always coveted a WLA and never had one, came from the school of buying an old harley and taking shit off until you had the bike you wanted, but nowdays HD is like Mercedes, everyone and his dog owns one, and they come from the school of buying a new factory bike full of bling, and then ADDING shit from the CC catalogue until you have the bike you wanted, more bling than a chrome factory, and then not riding it more than 2,000 miles a year because it ain’t sunny and it don’t handle no more and you can’t fuckin’ ride anyway.

My friend is seeing it, far from shifting 2013 stock, they are sitting on 2012 stock they can’t sell, and lets not forget ALL vehicle dealerships became nothing more than the front office for finance deals where the vehicle was merely the method by which a finance contract was sold.

So there are, in real terms, some really good deals available on unsold new 2012 harleys, assuming you are faggy enough to even consider riding something with a 103 cubic inch engine and electronic fuel injection and engine management system that was made by the lowest asian bidder… I’m talking showroom fresh big twin soft tail 2012 models with single digit miles on the odo and a three year parts and labour warranty for 10 thousand pounds and some change, or if you prefer 500 quid down and 300 quid a month for 4 years…

75 quid a week, just over a tenner a fucking day…. national minimum wage for a 21 year (or older) is £6.31 an hour….

… and this is, in itself, yet another canary in the coalmine, when you can’t even sell THAT shit, well a part of me welcomes the demise of all the fucking posers trying to buy cool, but a part of me sees that when you can’t even sell on good terms one of the fundamental long standing dictionary definitions of cool and aspiration, (he rides a harley) then shit is getting serious.

500 down and 300 a month for 4 years = 500 + (300 x 48) = 14,900, on a cash ticket price of 10,900 this represents approx 36.7% interest over 4 years.

36.7% over four years = 8.12% per year compound… fuck, back when I was a lad coming out of the mid seventies recession and OPEC crisis HP was fucking hard to get on a motorcycle, and I can remember being quoted 36% PER FUCKING YEAR by a finance arm of what was then the Midland Bank.

36% per year compounded for three years (you couldn’t GET 4 year vehicle loans back then) is 251%, so your 10,400 loan becomes a 26,104 repayment, over 36 months = 725 a month

Also gotta be said, back then you could buy two of anything else in a bike showroom new, for what a new HD cost.

So in real terms with current finance it has never been easier to sell, but even so, one of the most aspirational things you can lay your greasy little hands on simply is not selling…

Maybe, HD are just making the wrong bikes, again, same as the AMF days, maybe, they should go back to an 80 cube, or better still 74 cube evo motor, ditch all the bling, ditch the 6 speed tranny, electronic ignition is acceptable, but back to a carb, ditch all the running boards and faggy panniers and wheel guards and running gear…. try to get closer to 300lbs dry weight than 300 kilos, try to get back to a bike that will pull 70 miles out of a gallon of gas (I used to fairly regularly run a 2,000 mile trip across europe on my old 74 inch shovel with a 44t rear sprocket, and I would average around 67 mpg on the journey) and try to get back to a bike that did what it said on the tin, eat miles and needed 6 AF spanners to strip and rebuild.

The Harley “prepper”, the Harley “post economic meltdown”, the Harley “mad max” would all sell, I’d smack down 300 a month on the mobility equivalent of a rucksack full of .22 long rifle on easy terms, doesn’t matter which way the wind blows, it’s win-win.

http://www.autoevolution.com/news/harley-appleson-and-the-factory-of-dreams-58572.html

Related articles

• Harley-Davidson Ditches 6 Models for 2014 (autoevolution.com)
• Tanning Mom’s Topless Bikini Pics of the Day (drunkenstepfather.com)

There are a couple of yank expressions that I really like;

• nickel and dimed (to death)
• bait and switch

They aren’t exactly unrelated, and I guess it may be less than pure coincidence that they come from the greatest femitocracy the planet has ever known, because they are in fact pretty much hard-wired into a wimminz DNA.

I can remember a line from a film, I can’t remember the film, or the actors, or anything else, just the line…

Actor A “what are we gonna give Jim for his birthday?“

Actor B “how about VD?“

I can’t give what I don’t have, but the older wimminz get the weaker their immune systems get, so when a wimminz announced it was her birthday I gave her anal / cunt / anal / cunt sex, so she didn’t get VD, but she did get the expected infection / irritation / cramps…. hey bitch, you were the one who told me you could go all night and take anything I could give and still come back for more long after I was shagged out…

So in classic bait and switch the skank is now reconsidering her often stated offer to me to do absolutely anything I want sexually, pause while I cancel my ebay bid on the shetland pony herd, and nickel and diming about how if I really cared about her I wouldn’t expect her to go through all that again….

Got news for you, you only got into my bed on the basis that you claimed you would do “what it said on the tin” when you were telling me how rampant you were, now it turns out that “actual contents may differ from illustration” and that the pictures were “a guide only, batteries not included, not legal in the state of california” I gotta tell you, here is the news…

When you unilaterally change one side of a stated bargain, the guy has two options if he is a man and not a niggerz;

1. Declare the contract null and void and walk away.
2. Unilaterally alter HIS side of the bargain too.

In this case I’m going with option 2, I know option 1 is only a matter of time, but there is enough mileage left in the beater to go with option 2 for now.

You see, when I become the target of the two phrases that start this post off, as soon as you become a red piller, it is only a matter of time until you sit back and say OK, I see the lesson you are so earnestly trying to teach me, and I understand, and so now I shall practice what you have been practising on me…

Unfortunately for da wimminz, there are not lessons in life that can be un-learned, and I have had the bait and switch, and nickel and dime thing done to me so often, on so many different subjects and aspects of life, that the end result is what you see today, someone who really does not give a flying fuck what difficulties you find in your life, and who is quite content to sit back and let you make all sorts of assumptions about my financial potential, DIY potential, provider potential, dumb schmuck potential, and indeed wimminz, about your own ability to hook me, ensnare me, make me want you, make me love you, make me give a shit about you, or your womb turds, or your house, or your car.

You wimminz who think I am being “helpful” when you present me with your ailing car, your ailing roofing, your ailing computer, and i direct you to my friends, all red pill males themselves, but also tradesmen.

Sure, there guys did indeed rectify your problems, they did indeed do the work well, they did indeed do the work for less (cash money black economy) than whoever you would have found in the yellow pages, but that is mere coincidence, not a mark of a protector or walking schmuck.

I channeled some of your resources away from the usual suspects towards some fellow red pill men…. where it would do some good.

EVERYTHING else is pure coincidence, not design, not the main plan, not the also ran.

But, having been to the lifetime of lessons you wimminz and niggerz have put me through, I am now worldly wise enough to market it to you in terms you use to sell me shit.

And you know what, they were right, nobody easier to sell to than a salesman, nobody easier to con than a conman, nobody easier to sell a dream than those who sell dreams.

In a wider more whole-istic sense, that is how I fucked up with my FRA psycho skank ho ex, I didn’t play it smooth enough or smart enough, so one day she decided that nothing would give her more pleasure than dumping my ass, and then shitting on me as much as humanly possible.

Nowadays I am smarter, and all the skank ho wimminz I fuck honestly believe that they came to the decision that I was not the man they thought I was, time to dump his sad ass and move on to a better bet, with no residual desires to shit on me as much as humanly possible, because the mere act of dumping my ass is sufficient payback.

I get “friendzoned” by every last one of them.

Being a smart cookie, I celebrate that, and only allow two more messages from me to them, along the lines of “well, that’s a shame because I really respect you” and “well if you change your mind babe, you know where I am“

And then I become the true MGTOW / Ghost, I become literally invisible to them in my omega-ness, and the only bad play left is to try to raise myself out of that omega category with them, and to try to stay “friends”, much less rekindle any sexual antics.

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

To be *REALLY* clear on this point, the purpose of living in a man cave is not so that the wimminz look at it and think you’ll be delighted to move into their house with them and start picking up all the bills, they will start thinking that, and it is to your advantage at that stage of the game, but that is not the purpose.

The *PURPOSE* of living in a man cave is that NO WIMMINZ WILL EVER FEEL COMFORTABLE THERE, the closest you will get to a compliment is that they can see how a “lonely” single man can find such a pad comfy, but it ain’t a real home, followed by a list of shit on offer at their place that yours does not have….  no mention made of the shit at your place that theirs does not have, like a workshop bigger than the lounge, a kitchen with a PROPER coffee machine, a bedroom with a king size bed all to yourself, etc etc.

Related articles

• You are a nasty angry little man. (wimminz.wordpress.com)
• WTF part 997, or the art of Zen, part 997 (wimminz.wordpress.com)

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2314837/Cruelly-deceived-father-learned-son-banned-courts-seeing-him.html

It’s a bit like the dichotomy between team cunt and men, wimminz fall out with their “best” friends over them both fucking the same man, some time passes and before you know it the two wimminz are best friends again…

I have lost track of the number of wimminz who declare their “love” for me, and then proceed to demand something that love would never grant, but covetousness would… had it yet again today, a wimminz who I grace with my cum on occasion who declares her “love” for me, who is *quite* aware of the fact that the feeling is anything but mutual, then demands to know, on the basis of her “love” for me, who else I am fucking.

Just for shits and giggles and because I like watching the hamster wheel try to precess, I explain it this…

AfOR – “So, let’s say I decide to fall in love with Abbi Seccra, OK?“

skank – “Yeah“

AfOR – “But, she doesn’t love me, OK?“

skank – “Yeah“

AfOR – “So I call her up and demand to know who she is fucking, and I have a right to this info because I love her, even though she doesn’t give a shit about me, right?“

skank – “…well, err, no, BUT THAT’S DIFFERENT… yadda yadda“

I don’t even bother to point out that love involves respect for the other person, while covetousness involves your own avarice and greed, and that nobody who felt even a shred of respect for another person would make demands that certain private information be shared with you, JUST BECAUSE OF HOW YOU FEEL, IRRESPECTIVE OF HOW THEY FUCKING FEEL…

I didn’t bother because I was talking to a wimminz, and talking to a wimminz about concepts like respect is like talking to a termite about concepts like conservation.

Which kinda brings us to the seven deadly sins… so lets run through em for this skank ho…

• Lust – check, she wants my cock.
• Gluttony -  check, she is a fat bitch
• Greed – check, give her an inch she demands a mile
• Sloth -  check, see fat bitch above
• Wrath – check, she hates the bitch who wants my cock but hasn’t had it yet
• Envy – check, she wishes she was the bitch who stayed last night and woke me up with a hummer
• Pride – check, she thinks she is a real catch, despite the fact even if a trawler netted her she still wouldn’t be a catch.

Related articles

• Another example … (ayearinthelifeofptsd.com)
• If You Don’t Like What You See Here… (elricsfate.wordpress.com)
• To Covet What You Do Not Have (theacousticstrings.wordpress.com)

Hell, the Acropolis is well over 2,000 years old, it has seen all this shit before, indeed the Peloponnesian war was all about Athens becoming “too powerful and influential” in the region.

You might get individual humans who despite the kind of power discrepancy that existed between the author in the slog article and the 10 year old whore, will refrain from using that power, but corporations, states and armies will not ever refrain from using any power discrepancy they encounter.

But Greece yet again provides an excellent lesson, there are 10 year olds whoring themselves in the streets and kids going to school with severe hunger pangs and pharmacies with empty shelves, but the State is talking about plans to jail anyone who owes the State more than 5k Euro in unpaid taxes…. good luck to those of you thinking an economic famine will cause the state to cut pointless crap like wimminz legal powers over men and fathers…. really good fucking luck… you’ll need it.

I have always heard a lot of people say “xxx are a bunch of cunts” where xxx is a country, to which I have responded “I have a lot of time for the xxx people” but of course unlike the speaker I have been there and met them

Many moons ago, due to a backstory that isn’t relevant, I found myself on the bones of my ass in the deep south peloponnese, if I could get my as to Athens, in 5 days time there would be a ticket waiting for me at the airport, but that was a 300 km walk away, and I hadn’t eaten anything for a day or two, and I literally had no money, and I had an injured leg, I could limp, and it hurt like a bitch.

I didn’t beg, I didn’t ask, I didn’t woe is me, but the fact is the simple human kindness and generosity of a couple of greeks that I barely knew from Adam go me to Athens with two days to spare and nothing to do but wander around. It gives you a different perspective from the author of the slog, the rich foreigner staying in the hotel with his credit cards and travellers cheques, and it was of course at the other end of the “euro” saga, when the coffers were opened and there was european money for everything, from owning land to popping out kids to building a vast subway system under Athens.

Athens had a good bus system, as far as I knew at the time 50% of riders (including me) never paid a fare, the only things you couldn’t really get away with not paying on were the hydrofoils, and even in those high times every family had members who had fucked off abroad for economic reasons, places like Canada and the States, but even then the Athens I saw was like the Venice I saw, like any other place really, go behind the streets of plate glass windows of the Cartier shops and keep walking and sooner or later you got to where people were poor and had fuck all.

So I’m not saying there weren’t 10 year old whores walking up to obviously (relatively) wealthy foreigners in the street and offering them sexual pleasure for very little money, but that they wouldn’t have been walking up to me, and in any event they would have had to be illegals from Romania or Abania or somewhere because if they were Greek there were other options… not that whoring or whorehouses were rare in Greece even then.

That’s the other thing about greece, it’s afghanistan or kurdistan with a few bits of stunted growth, olive trees and just big bonsai, they live a thousand years because there is only enough goodness in what passes for soil to grow a few mm a year, living off the land in Greece as a forager is HARD, will easily kill you hard, and it is a cold place in winter, and sunny enough for tourism in summer, and yes there is 2000+ years of history, but if you avoid the tourist groups and actually wander around the ancient places (Napflion for example) you don’t feel like you are treading in history, you feel like you are walking over a place that got nuked every 100 years for the last millennium, history is not a 10 year old whore, it is the same whore 80 years later.

The 10 year old whore is just the mark of the start of another cycle in history.

And that’s what gelled, there are no more young teen girls that look like young teen girls, because those times have passed, rather like when I went to school, there were no fat bastards in the annual school photo, and fat bastards were seen with scorn, because everyone else came from a common culture of hard times and austerity, and gluttony was despised.

Sure, I will sit there and stew, you fucking fucking cunt asshole, mutter mutter, but in reality this is whatever stresses I do have boiling away rather than being repressed and internalised.

Sure, there are things that I disagree with PROFOUNDLY, such as the way the state and the system have treated my kids and my ex, and by extension wimminz and single mommies in general.

BUT

But the reality is overall I am the most de-stressed individual you will ever meet, the wisdom of St Francis, I ***KNOW*** there is shit I cannot change, so I just shrug and get on with life, and overall life is treating me pretty good as a result.

I am not an nasty angry little man, I am an experienced man who literally does not give a fuck about anyone else, I don’t care what they think, I don’t care what they feel, I am not responsible for their happiness or their precious little snowflake delusions.

*they* mainly cannot fucking believe that someone, me, had the nerve to come out and say the things I said, because what *they* are used to is nobody calling them on their shit.

So on a social networking site, some skank ho with a handle not a million miles away from “worms in my head“, with dead fish eyes, with a shaved head, with piercings, with fuck off great huge tattoos all over her body, with a wardrobe that looks like it was chosen from Malcolm McLaren‘s hand me downs back in the punk era, with no job because they are “too ill to work”, asks a question about whether “someone” disclosing mental health issues is likely to affect their chances of getting a meet, yours truly tells it like it is.

Yours truly says, one look at your profile pics bitch, is all the confirmation I need that you are fucking looney tunes, and no I would not fuck you, but, in your favour, at least you are OBVIOUSLY loony tunes, which makes you safer to be around than all the undiagnosed Cluster B wimminz out there, and their white knight niggerz.

Yours truly is not shocked, or outraged, or surprised, or anything else, by the tsunami of outrage and bullshit that follows, or the fact that yet again it comes from the same small section of the overall “membership”, or the fact that they are all the skank ho psycho wimminz who I wouldn’t fuck anyway, fugly cunts well past their use by date.

Yours truly is not surprised at getting yet another forum timeout.

Yours truly is not surprised at getting his comments deleted from the thread.

Yours truly is not angry, or upset, or a hater.

You want the truth, yours truly know an iniquitous cesspool of skank ho mirror mirror on the wall when he sees one, and sometimes it is fun to throw a rock in the cess pool and watch the ripples spread out, aim it properly so it lands on one of the subsurface lurkers and hey ho.

What *IS* interesting is the odd female who starts agreeing with what I say, and who promptly get THEIR comments deleted also.

What *IS* interesting is the odd male who starts standing up and noting that it is always the same fucking wimminz who object to everything everyone else says anywhere in the forums.

What *IS* interesting is the ABSOLUTE denial of the more extreme psycho skank ho wimminz and niggerz who cannot, fucking, believe, that a complete cunt like me can actually get any cunt myself.

They are as thoroughly brainwashed as the average american is about Islam.

If you are a yank reading this, here is the news, the rest of the world hates the fucking USA the way one wimminz hates another wimminz with bigger implants and smaller thighs, its the hypocrisy we hate, truth justice apple pie and predator drone strikes on civilians after interfering with democratic processes in other countries in resource wars, that is what the USA is and what it does.

The rest of the word “hates you for your freedom” just like everyone one the forums hates these skank ho wimminz for their sensitivity, sensuality and sexuality.

NOT

AT

ALL

The Chechen brothers were not chilled out and so laid back as to be horizontal guys like me, content to comment and not buy your bullshit, they were nasty and angry little men, who took to violence to make a statement.

People like me, we are the canaries in the coal mine, quite happy to sing away in our gilded cages, it beats the living shit out of slaving away at the coal face, or being a pit pony, etc

There the analogy breaks down, because the explosive gas does not kill us and silence us and act as a warning to everyone else, on the contrary (kudos to Harry Harrison) we are the new breed, genetically enhanced canaries, we are the only cunts in the coal mine who can breathe explosive gases, hell it gives is a buzz, so we cheep LOUDER.

Explosions, that’s what we are chirping about, explosive gas = explosions = blowing this fucking gilded cage apart = freedom from oppression and bullshit (kudos to Fritz the Cat) … it’s a high bro, tweets to all the other canaries in the mines, PAAARTAAAAY time.

Attacking the canaries is textbook MISSING THE FUCKING POINT, the canaries aren’t the explosive gases, nor are they mining and releasing the explosive gases (To be strictly correct it wasn’t just explosive gases, it was lack of oxygen that canaries were there to warn about) nor are they running the mines, in fact we had less freedom about being here than the miners themselves, who sold their souls to the company store, but who did it voluntarily.

No, the only nasty angry and delusional assholes here are the ones who are trying to shut the canaries up, because they have no answers for the other angry nasty delusional assholes WHO THEY THEMSELVES BRED, like the Chechen boys.

So, I have lived to see (virtually from a distance) a daytime curfew in the USA, achieved by two nasty angry young men, and a room full of wimminz and niggerz who WILL NOT TOLERATE any attacks on their authoritah, y’hear….

Game over man.

Who do I have to fuck to get a transfer out of this chickenshit outfit.