Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

April 23, 2014


Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 10:28 am

When it comes to individuals generally and individual wimminz specifically, people pretty much have no problem getting on board with the following;

1/ Judge them by what they DO, not what they say they will do, are doing, have done.

2/ What they DO is governed by their TRUE intentions.

3/ Where what they say and what they do differs, then what they say is part of the strategy to make the doing easier and less effort on their part.

However, when it comes to groups of people and institutions, suddenly people have much more difficulty with this idea, until you make the groups and institutions so vast they they become “them” and “the government”

“The state” has been, according to what they say, “waging a war on / against drugs” since at least 1965, that’s what they say.

And you cannot judge the vast amounts of manpower and money and materiel and time expended in this as being an example of DOING either, if you are having a war on drugs, the only example of doing that counts is winning that war.

If you are NOT winning that war, they you are not DOING, so what are you doing instead?

You’re growing a vast and powerful and intrusive branch of state “security” that can go anywhere it wants and do anything it wants.


Again, down at the individual level, if the bitch is not ACTUALLY MAKING THE marriage / relationshit work, and succeeding, then everything she says about love and trust and commitment and family is bullshit.. the reality is it is a job with better terms and conditions than waiting tables at the diner.

It’s the middle ground in between where people have difficulty accepting this.

Which is insane, because the middle ground is fucking HUUUGE, it’s like a guy stood on the primordial plains in hunter gatherer mode.

He looks off 20 miles into the distance at the horizon, and says that is all bullshit, but it don’t matter, cos it is out of reach.

He looks at his hands and a yard around himself, and says that is all bullshit, but it don’t matter, because it is all in reach.

He looks at everything in between, ah, there lies opportunity, it’s all potentially in reach, so I don’t want any of it to be bullshit.

The secret family courts have been secret since the mid seventies, to protect da chiiildwun, and despite two full generations passing, no kids have been protected by this secrecy, but a lot of iniquitous larceny and family breakdown has… QED.

THAT IS WHAT IT IS THERE FOR, the secret family courts are working EXACTLY as intended.

So is the political process that sees whores like Blair and Obama rise to the top.

and yet, time and time and time again, like junkies returning 3 hours later for the next fix, I see people going back to these delusional bullshit descriptions of what things are, and wondering out loud why a local policeman is not held to the same standards and rules as a local car mechanic, for example.

Everything, everywhere you look, is doing EXACTLY what it was intended to do from the outset.

Does the “customer service support” process singularly fail to treat you as a customer, or deliver any service, or support you, despite progressing through 20 different people in seven different calls?

Then WHY, dear fucking god WHY, do you think, for even a fucking INSTANT, that it is somehow broken, and not working EXACTLY as it was designed to do.

The more sacred the cow, the easier it is to tell a lie that will push the desired trigger, so they bigger the lie you can tell.

Fucking some 7 year old up the ass, that’s fucking Amex Black Card buddy, you can get away with ANYTHING in the name of that, and not one fuck is given about any individual 7 year old getting their ass reamed… not one.

In fact, sometime the opposite is the case… “Mission Accomplished” is fatal.

I knew people who ran drugs, on a fucking industrial scale, and let me tell you, EVERY cunt knew, they HAD to, for it to work.

You CANNOT run a distribution network that large and far reaching, no matter how loosely, and have it any more obscure than the exact same sort of network for tobacco, or coffee, or sugar.

So instead every few weeks some asshole patsy is lined up, set up before they even appear on the scene, like a corporation deciding to advertise for a vacancy, here are a few tens or dozen of K, maybe even a ton or so if we had a bumper harvest, go sleepwalk into this trap we set up.

Back in the 80′s I saw, I’m talking touching distance, one of these little vested interest groupings having their own little power struggle, all very genteel and polite like, none of the hollywood masked gunmen and cattle prod to the testicles, that shit is for the gutter level recruits.

This was more along the lines of Jay Leno and Jerry Seinfeld having a dispute about who has the best collection, so Jerry gets one of the executives from his collection to go visit Jay’s collection and take a shit in the Bugatti.

No people were harmed, just money, which is just a way or keeping score, and some pecking order points.

So, one guy decides to push the envelope this way, lawyer wise, and weasel words accounting holding to the letter but not the spirit of the business arrangement with another guy, so less cash and product flows through the other guy.

The other guys smiles, sends his minions (la policia) out, and they seize the first guys 30+ metre yacht, and move it from the marina to the government quay.

The first guy doesn’t blink.

The other guy tells his minions to move on board, start storing 45 gall drums of diesel on the teak decks, start relaxing there, treat it as a clubhouse.

The first guy doesn’t blink.

The other guy tows it a scant 3 Km out to sea, where it is still *very* visible, and has his compadre in the navy use it as target practice for the 12.7 mm and 3″ main popgun… 5 million dollars (in late 80′s dollars) worth of yacht blown to shit and sunk.

And the difference it made to availability or price on the street?


April 21, 2014

Fuck like an easter bunny.

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 3:57 pm

So it was one of those strange bizarre and unpredictable things that you couldn’t set up if you tried.

Thanks to the FRA and a couple of other things, there is this reputation that follows me like flies on shit, that I’m partial to younger wimminz.

Of course if it is a cougar wimminz, that’s all well and good, but when a man pulls that shit, it soon gets called cradle robbing or worse.

Generally, now that I am in my mid fifties, “younger” means mid thirties, OK, technically, yes, young enough to be my daughter, but they themselves often have teenage kids, so cradle snatching , not quite.

But, there has been younger, about a year ago there was a chick who was 21/22 at the time, and I don’t have to tell you guys that the extra ten years off a wimminz makes her so much more fuckable, nature’s Viagra in spades, and I have to admit to it being a few years since I had a teenager.

But, there’s the thing, some skanks in their twenties look like they are pushing forty, and some skanks in their twenties look like they are pushing 15, despite the fact they have dropped two womb turds.

And so it was, there I was sitting outside a caff having a smoke, and bump into a couple of people, people who know about the FRA stuff because they were round then, so they know the story, and while they got no time at all for what the skank pulled, they also think that my own morals left more than just a little bit to be desired, banging a mother and her daughter and all… disgusting perv..

So, some years after the FRA, they were kinda OK with my lifestyle, banging a series of mid 30′s chicks, not ideal behaviour for a mature man, but what the hell.

And yeah, I know this is all as judgemental as fuck, but I’d been through an FRA, I no longer gave a fuck, even if I did before, I sure didn’t now, these people, they were blessed, never been exposed to this stuff, so yeah, they were judgemental but I dig where they were coming from, and we weren’t so close it was an issue.

So about a year ago they saw me with this 21/22 year old on my arm, and they were fairly shocked, and when they found out she was a low rent porn star, they were fucking horrified….. but throughout it all there was this underlying belief that there was something wrong with me, and them, because hell, why else would a young chick bang and old guy, and vice versa.

To which the porn slut kinda fits in with… broken people innit..

So, back to the caff and my smoke, they wander up, we chat for a bit, what you doing here, because we are all 70 miles from hometown, oh I say, just visiting a mate.

They sigh, another woman huh….  oh aye…

And then she walks out, having visited the toilet, 24/25 and looks 18 if that, but this one ain’t the usual class of slut, this is the quiet country girl from the small village where everyone knows everything, including the fact that she got pregnant by and married to her first ever boyfriend, and they only just split up…..

Now I am the most cynical and experienced mother-fucker out there, but this chick, I doubt her lifetime cock count is three, including yours truly, just like my rep follows me like flies around shit, she has an auru too… sweet young thang…

…and it blew their fucking minds… does not compute.

… and then the inevitable happened, their wimminz walked up.

Took it all in, looked fucking daggers, not at me, but at the chick, which just made her move closer to me and put her arm around me, which made them even more daggers, which they then turned on me.

And then one of them says, what on earth are you doing with this young girl?

Fucking, mainly..” cos, like y’all know, best aphrodisiac on the planet, and the young chicks can go all night too, it’s all double plus good shit.

So one of the guys winces and tries to pour some water on the flames and says “jeez mate, why sooo young” cos, see, he don’t know her actual age, he just know she looks 17 or 18.

So, for only the second time in my life, I was able to utter the words I first heard from a friend back when I was 18, and I didn’t think this shit, they just came out of nowhere.

She don’t know I’m a pervert, she just thinks it’s stuff she ain’t learnt yet.

That totally fucked it, “WE are LEAVING!” says the wimminz, stereophonic sound, hitting the guys in the shoulder, imperiously like, MOVE, slave…

Thing is, none of that is really the point of this story, nor the fact that those two couples have now crossed the line, history.

No, the thing is after, we are in bed at hers, and she starts talking about it, and I got to say, the girl NAILED it.

She didn’t use the same words I use here like wimminz vs women and skanks and feminazis and all that, but she fucking nailed it.

Did you see how rude they were to their men’s friend?
Did you see them hit their men?
Did you see they didn’t even go into the cafe, or even ask the men, just ordered them about like children?

and the icing on the cake

It’s wasn’t you they didn’t like, it was me, because I’m not like them.

Where the fuck was she when I was 21… OK, her mother was still in junior school, but y’all know what I mean.

This follows on from the too perfect story, this chick was born in 1990, so didn’t hit 16 until 2006, and by then, all the feminazi lands were strip mined to death and covered in favelas.

Sure, she still grew up in a toxic culture, and sure, she still wants many of those things, the difference is, all those clubs are full, no new members, no admittance, your name ain’t on the list and you ain’t coming in.

And that ALONE is enough to generate a Them and Us mindset in her, between her and older wimminz, and city wimminz, she knows, instinctively, they ain’t got shit in common.

And THAT my brothers is the point of this story, that is where the hope for the future lies, to give a bad analogy, it’s like Sunni vs Shia Islam, the Buddhists ain’t got to do shit except grab some popcorn and sit back.


April 20, 2014

Too perfect

Filed under: Wimminz — wimminz @ 1:28 pm

I’m pasting the entire text of the article, in black text, and my responses in red text


I took the ‘How long will I live?’ test last week, the one the Government thinks you should take to ensure you don’t buy a Ferrari, but eke out your pension instead.index

I didn’t even know there was such a “test” but I’d place as much reliance on it as an OKC “are you a slut” test, what’s the chances a government test is gonna say “Y’all got mebbe 12 months left dude, party hearty…”

No, they will all tell us all we will live to be 99

Oh, for the luxury of a pension! I don’t have one, just enormous tax bills, and negative equity.

This is a woman who has lived a singularly charmed life as a high profile high earning journalist, I dread to think what her total income has been over the years, but the only way someone like this could be in negative equity is to be constantly buying a series of very large properties and then spending 50% of the purchase price “renovating” then, and then selling them on, all on mortgages, living beyond their means….  oh… wait… that is exactly what she did.

I don’t have a pension either bitch, when you are too old to work, you die.

Unfortunately, I have never smoked, I exercise every day for at least two hours, am slightly underweight, have parents who both survived past the age of 80, and I’m vegan to boot.

Baby, you were born in 1958, we are fucking contemporaries, I smoke, I used to drink, do drugs, you name it, I eat meat and everything else, and even WITH all the expensive make-up and hairdos and clothing, you still look like a dried up old crone, and you are AT FUCKING LEAST 20 years past the time you had any hope of being seen in public with me.

Quit with the big upping yourself, y’all ain’t all that, in fact, y’all ain’t much of anything.

Apparently, I will live until I’m 100, which is a blow, to be honest, given my heating bill up here in the frozen Yorkshire Dales is £600 a month, which means without food and on only a state pension I will be running a deficit of £200 a month.

Oh how this makes me laugh, my energy bill for the entire year is around 800 notes, that is all electric and all gas, not JUST heating, to keep my place toasty and WARM, I like to sit around basically nekkid see, eg >22 C, that’s all my hot water too, all my laundry, all my computers, everything, yet, your HEATING BILL ALONE is NINE fucking times my total energy bill.

Living beyond your means, profligate waste, and as I said above, your living quarters must be ten times the square feet of mine, minimum, and you like me are single….

If it comes to living long enough to get the state pension, currently around 100 a week, then I guess I’m going to be living in thermal long johns and pullovers and wooly cap indoors, sure as hell nobody else is going to give a fuck about my status.

I won’t pay off my mortgage until I am 79, but I suppose the plus side of this is I will default on my payments and thus be rendered homeless, so will have nothing to heat.

I don’t have a mortgage….quite apart from the fact that housing prices are a bubble which I don’t want to part of, even were I offered the chance, you only have to stand in front of a divorce / secret family court judge once in your entire life and watch the shenanigans where they try to get you kicked out of your own fucking house, but still have to pay for it, to decide that even in the BEST of times, it’s not a fucking asset, it’s a fucking liability.

How anyone with a functioning brain can take this liability and compound it by buying beyond their means and then also getting into negative equity is, well… nobody with a functioning brain would… QED.

Y’all do realise that this horrific and parlous possible future scenario that she described with abject horror is no more than the situation I and many other men find ourselves actually living in, and have been for years, if I want to continue to live here, I have to continue to pay the rent, so I have to continue to work, and speaking frankly the amount I do and can earn dramatically limits the amount of rent I can pay.

Cry me a fucking river, bitch.

Perhaps I could also try to persuade one of my cats to give me meningitis.

Or you can smear shippams fish paste over your cunt and get some oral sex from them too, but the irony here is priceless, cat lady, fnaar fnaar, you really could not make this shit up… words fail me at this point, you either get this or your don’t.. I’m off to bang my head against the wall for a bit…

It’s come to a sorry state if we are all now wishing we could die relatively young, so we are not tipped into penury.

We? You got a fucking mouse in your pocket bitch? Cos there ain’t no fucking “we” in this, you’re on your own, fuck you very much.

Actually, I’m torn, between wishing you and all your ilk and wimminz and niggerz an early death, say by 9 pm tonight, or, hoping you all live to be 110, lives of abject misery and poverty, that serve such a strong example to all others that merely uttering one syllable of feminazi eekwalitee bullshit will get a screwdriver shoved into a kidney.

I am a feminist, I really am (I’ve never let a man pay for anything), but feel the current generation of women in their 60s, the first to abandon the way of life of their mothers, which meant they pursued careers, married and had children late, had affairs then got divorced, all in the name of liberation, are now imprisoned in debt, alcohol abuse and loneliness, wishing they could die, and do it soon.

The moronic microcephalic cretinous arrogance and stupidity, even assuming it were true that she did not allow a man to DIRECTLY pay for anything, in the feminazi state ALL men are taxed to support the lifestyles of these worthless cunts, and artificially raise the ground zero for them, in exchange for being born with a cunt.

DESPITE these incredible and unfair advantages, you now sob that you are now imprisoned in debt and alcohol abuse, wishing you could die.

I got news for you girl, give the paintbrush to me and I’ll paint the X on the ground and chant jump you cunt, so these rest of us can get on with our lives.


Of sympathy, I have none, rather I will pull up a chair and warm the cockles of my heart watching you all weep and suffer… the bill for your lifestyle and arrogance is long overdue.

One of my sisters, who now lives abroad but spent decades as a cardiac intensive-care nurse in the NHS, wrote to me last week asking if I could send money so she could pay her electricity bill.

Grrrrl power, guess she done run out of niggerz to pay her bills for her eh… I was gonna suggest whoring, but if she looks anything like you….

Growing up, it was all about getting a career, and a boyfriend.

Growing up? Something none of you skanks have ever done.

These were our only goals. No one ever sat me down and gave me financial advice. Not a bank manager, or my parents, or a teacher, or a boss, or an agent, or even an accountant.

Nor me bitch, only sales droids, leafleteers, jehovas witnesses and politicians ever make their own way to my door to offer me unsolicited shit.

I learned shit the hard way, when I found that I did not know something that I needed or wanted to know, I had two choices, remain in ignorance, or go out and seek the knowledge I wanted, and that seeking always had a cost attached too.

I have worked since I was 18 years old, never had a day off sick or a spell on maternity leave, and have absolutely nothing to show for it.

Which is the ultimate proof you are a stupid cunt, albeit pushing a pen isn’t work in the first fucking place.

I also have fuck all to show for my life, which makes me a stupid cunt too… though I never had the option of maternity leave, I just had to refuse overtime so I could get home in time to actually see my sons before they went down for the night when they were babies, even if it was just for 30 minutes a day.

On the other hand, I have a hell of a lot to show for myself, I am a Man.

Women like me – I’m now in my 50s – have survived mainly on optimism, the thought that one day we will be OK. The thing is, we have simply run out of time.

Who knew? Apart from everyone that is… just yesterday in the Dachau bit I talked YET AGAIN about this, the wimminz delusion that just because the music ain’t stopped yet, it ain’t gonna stop tomorrow.

Waaaaay fucking ahead of you bitch, so far ahead I can predict with uncanny accuracy that no matter how bad it gets, the one thing we will NEVER hear or see from you is humility and contrition, for all those years when you got handed it for free on a plate, or any attempt to apologise, much less make amends.

You are a career criminal, it is all you are and all you know how to be, and now that it looks like you may have to stand up in front of the beak suddenly the crocodile tears come out, but I didn’t meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen to hurt anyone….ALL wimminz walk into the banks of men high on PCP and toting loaded shotguns…

When you are not from a privileged class, which I certainly was not, you are so grateful to even have a job or a book deal you don’t question anything, let alone demand a safety net. You don’t protect yourself.

LMFAO, safety net, yeah, I’ve heard of them, I think they have them in circuses, but I never been to a circus, so can’t say fo sho…

Where was my “safety net” when my psycho skank ho ex decided to FRA my ass and for good measure claim I shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near my sons because I wanted to fuck them up the ass, and by the way Judge, can I have all his shit too, but not the ongoing bills associated with it…

Innocent? That and a couple of bucks will buy you a coffee, assuming you are out and at liberty to do so… that’s how much being innocent of all allegations is worth.

So, yes, I will be rather relieved if I die and, by the way, God, any time soon would be good.

Bitch you already overstayed your welcome, how about trying to atone for some of the shit you pulled, while there is still time… oh… wait… I’m talking about a wimminz, they don’t do atonement, they only do being wescued fwom da nasty man.

You’re fucking media whore, if there was even 0.00001% truth in what you claim to feel all you gotta do is sit down in front of your web-cam and slit your own scrawny throat…. 720p please…

It’s not necessarily your fault if you end up without enough money to see you safely into your grave. In my sister’s case, she gave up her job to care for her son, who was dying of cancer.

Fuck off, being a “carer” such as this, even for an immediate family member, literally pays more than I earn as a wage, this is an absolute fact.

It may not be your fault, but, bitch, you are paying fucking 20 pounds a fucking DAY to heat your mc-mansion…. at 18 pence per kWh that is 5 kilowatts of heating running 24/7

As I sit here it is 9 degrees C and raining outside, the gas central heating is off, and I have one 400 watt bar on in the quartz electric fire, even with the room door open a crack, the ambient room temp is 18.2 C, and me being one yard in front of said fire, I’m fucking toasty…. at this rate of use and all the PC everything else, I’ll use £2 of electric a day… if I turn on the gas central heating and heat the whole place up to 22 C, that’s about £2 a day….


Scratch any poor and ancient person, and you might well find a similar story, even if it is one of misplaced trust and being too busy to read the small print.

Oh, you think?

I’m taking part in a debate at the Oxford Union on May 1.

Fucking students, no sympathy for the bastards, they deserve you.

I am arguing against promiscuity. Oxford has chosen me because I was a virgin until my 30s, not for my brilliant education at Southend Tech, but my point will be this: the sexual revolution did us no favours, really.

Gosh, what next, water is wet, fire burns?

Bitch, if you think it did YOU no good, when you were the cunts it did most for, spare a fucking thought for the men.

It meant lots of us – including men who lost the family home and their children because of infidelity –will be old, and on our own. Who would want 30 years of that?

A final 13 words cast to the men, like alms to the poor, to show your solidarity now the hangmen are coming for your scrawny neck… go fuck yourself.

No, the real story here is the Liz is the apex fallacy, she rode the feminazi eekwality wave for all it was worth, she rode it higher and better than 99.999% of her sisters, and perhaps most importantly, she essentially got in on the ground floor, there were undiscovered lands as far as the eye could see, and you could have as much as you wanted a 5 cents an acre…. and borrow the 5 cents interest free too…

No matter how lucky and privileged you are as a wimminz, if you were not born in 1958 as Liz was, but in 1978, you are now 36, and all those undiscovered lands are gone, and what is left has been strip mined and covered in favelas.

Y’all ain’t never even going to approach the foothills of the majestic and towering mountain ranges that Liz was wafted up… and.. you got an extra 20 years on the grinding downside.

If you were born in 1998, you’re 16, and even the achievements of your sistahs born in 1988 are hopelessly out of reach, y’all already peaked, and it is all downhill from here on in.


The Crimea today, for 99.9% of people it is still pretty stable, despite all the issues, the lights are still on, the shops are still open, you can still buy and use a mobile phone, and yet, with the extremely limited and contained violence that has occurred, since Liz is one of the media, I gotta ask, where are the skanks from Femen?

Did they all go down on flight MH370?

April 19, 2014

Unit 731 vs Dachau, random shit…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , — wimminz @ 3:11 am

One lot got accused of war crimes, one lot got given immunity, meh, the nips didn’t have any Von Braun’s to trade away with though though… so all’s fair.

You know, the more I learn about the world and people and what people actually do, the more I come to the conclusion (see fatso Cyril Smith the dead paedo… oh no, nobody knew any members of parliament were paedos back when they were alive, except we all did… ) that there are no morals at all, anywhere.

Absolutely nothing is taboo, and frankly, looking at the scale of what is done, and condoned, and immunity given and protection offered, subverting an entire kindergarten class for your own sexual perversions and desires over a period of several years is the sort of thing that is so mundane and trivial it falls off the bottom of the records.

Of course there is a great deal of effort to promote what is moral and what is legal and what is right, but it exists a world away from the reality and those who do such things… or don’t, as the case may be.

One of my rules is that if I did not personally witness it, I place very little faith that it happened even remotely similar to the way it is reported, if it even happened at all.

I’m not quite going to nut-job lengths and claiming Elvis is still alive, fact is I never met the guy, so I have to reason to believe “he” ever did exist, faking Elvis is not harder than faking Obama, and don’t assume I mean one actor, and not several actors playing the role.

Of course a belief system based on only trusting what I directly witness means that I only ever see 1 x e-736 of what actually goes down, so in many ways I am the most ignorant mother-fucker that ever walked the planet, on the other hand, RECOGNISING this fact can instantly transform me into one of the least dis-informed mother-fuckers on the entire planet….

Countdown to the revelation that Nevada rancher Clive-n Bundy has a secret stash of kiddie porn and an enclave of 12 year old sex slaves…

Taking a step back and looking at things from a removed perspective, Kim Jong ain’t all that ruthless, and for all those “ooh, some strange places on google maps/earth that are blurred” the fact is I can zoom in to where I live here in the UK and see satellite photographs of high enough quality and resolution to reveal the make and often model and always colour of every single vehicle parked on the street, but go to north korea or japan and all we see is a blob, could be a car, or a van, or who knows what.

It’s the same fucking constellation of satellites, storage of all that data is not big deal, it’s not that big a data set, and as for each users, well, it makes no odds what apparent altitude of lat and long I choose to view, the amount of data that needs to be transmitted to me for each screen is the same.

Sure, I might have more personal interest and likelihood to select the street where I live, or my mate lives, or where I lived as a kid, than some street in north Korea, or indeed ile de yeux, or belle isle, or the scillies, or the channel islands, and then you get that *other* channel island, Sark, home and fiefdom of the infamous Barclay brothers, and you have even less definition and a higher minimum altitude than north Korea.

What y’all have to realise is not only is there no valid technical reason for this, it is actually the other way around, you have to deliberately go in and impose artificial minimum apparent altitude / maximum resolution limits for various sectors of the globe.

OK, the Barclay brothers have as much clout as the Rothschild’s, hey google, I’ll consider it a favour if my back yard is stuck at 30,000 ft minimum apparent altitude https://goo.gl/maps/v8p3n while the rest of the country can stick to the default 1,000 ft https://goo.gl/maps/lqwAJ (Mayflower steps in Plymouth for yew yanks) but the fact is that this data is presented as though the doors have been flung open, y’all come in and help youselves.

Whereas the reality is quite, quite, different.

Why are UK cities shown in far more detail and at higher res than the countryside 10 miles away, and why is the countryside 10 miles away shown at higher res than the islands 30 miles offshore, and why is north Korea shown at higher res than one of those islands.

Given that the fact that it is so CAN ONLY BE because someone decided to intervene and reduce the available resolution, this decision in itself is INTRINSIC to the whole question of why, why is the reality different from the presented image that the doors have been thrown open, come in and help yourselves.

Even the “yeah, that shit is available, but, commercially only” doesn’t hold water, because the lowest resolution areas would be London, New York, Tokyo, etc.

So, in fact, you can turn it on it’s head, https://goo.gl/maps/EU1j6 which is Nelson’s old stomping grounds, high resolution, no secrets here, nothing to hide, hey have you got planning permission to reverse that trailer there?

I dunno, I did say this was going to be random shit up there didn’t I…

I just realised something today, I mean realised it for real, a person’s smart-phone outlives them as long as the battery holds charge, and you get the two ticks message delivered from whatsapp… waiting for the reply… that never comes… that never will come now….

So that’s their legacy, for their kids, whoever, the last things they said to anyone else on earth, the most recent pictures of them, and they are a sad and fucked up and minuscule as any thing else we do from hour to hour, best forgotten by all really.

That’s one of the questions on OKC, if you die and people go through your shit, would they be surprised / shocked?

Nah, 72 hours after I reset the timer last and everything goes up, including the teen waifs chained in the basement and the real recipe for coca cola and my Barry Manilow shrine…. lol

After a while, you stop caring, I remember back during my FRA incident, da po-lice interrogator comes to the sex “implement” collection, you mean the sex toy collection, bought legally on-line right here in the UK, I say… meh, she ploughs on, some of them are huuuge she says, clearly trying to build a case that the only possible use for a monster dildo is to torture the poor *victim* in this case by shoving it up her three kids and takes a fist with no lube cunt, I look her in the eye and tell her it’s my business what I want to shove up my own ass, and grin.

You know the wimminz be reacting differently this year, and I know that is a very subjective call to make, and also a claim that is easy to debunk by saying *my* attitudes have shifted, but, I still claim it is so… there is a fucking desperation out there, the casual hook up is pretty much gone, the bitches are all looking for commitment, and I’m all “you want me to make a commitment to get something you been busy giving away for free the past twenty years? get fucked…” and that ain’t going down well either.

*Some* cunt is going to pay the price for their past sexual proclivity, and it sure ain’t gonna be them, at least, that’s the plan anyways…. and half the bitches be using the same image processing algorithms as google earth, I know I said this shit before, but it is practically impossible to take a bad picture with a 2013 smart-phone, and yet most of the bitches have worse fucking profile pics than they had in 2012… and that ain’t accidental…

See, it’s what I call the crazy eye syndrome, y’all look at a picture of the bitch, and see the crazy behind those eyes….  if. y’all remember Jesusify, I could do the same for every skank on OKC, just replace all their profile text with “I’m a slut”, job done, meanwhile the fucking sites have gone to shit, bunch of freaks treating it like fuckbook with their pathetic status updates, bunch of whores promoting their “clubs” which are just ways to get guys to part with a twenty quid entrance fee to meet some hambeast who has already taken 20 cocks that night, and it’s still early…lol…. and the small percentage of old school gen-u-wine swingers, who have all pulled their horns in and shut up shop while the crazies riot in the streets…

Need me some earth cola, cos shit is getting weird when I’m the only normal fucker left…

… so, one of the difficulties you have to guard against, it’s insanity, go insane and it’s fucking game over (for you) man, being nuts is fine, but being insane, not good.

Cunt up there who is now dead, didn’t have to be so, they had a clear choice about a year ago, continue being in charge of their own destiny and riding that handcart in to hell, or making me their master, which actually ain’t such a bad deal, cos a man is responsible for the maintenance and well-being of his property and all, but no, no matter how obviously a good deal it was, she was holding out for the billionaire immortal werewolf, or the delusion that the music ain’t stopped yet, so it ain’t gonna stop tomorrow either.

Death doesn’t teach anyone anything, not those doing the dying, or those who see it, they just see the music ain’t stopped for them yet, so death just eliminates one more asshole from the world, but sadly there is no shortage of them either.

Callous and disrespectful as fuck, yeah, maybe, but *she* could have avoided it, so why is it my problem, not speaking ill of the dead, not even sour grapes at the waste, gettin’ chilly in here, throw another servant on the fire, just calling it as I see it.


Yeah, you probably are girl, waste of a perfectly good white girl though, you know what I’m talking about… meanwhile, back at the ranch…


So, apart from the fact she is having a lab grown fleshlight impanted, since when was a vagina required to get pregnant, back when I was a lad that was the job of the womb, bitch should be careful what she wishes for though….


like the man himself says “The fight started because I realised she cared more about money than sex and affection” amen brother, still, it could be worse…


So, they have an adult consensual sexual relationship, albeit an incestuous one, but he gets two years hard jail time, and she gets two years sweet fuck all, I know the words to that tune of sexual equality before the law, meanwhile , because he banged a 15 year old girl 23 years ago when he was 28 (and the age of consent here is 16, and it is real easy to make a mistake) and it is clear from the wording that *that* skank consented too, he is now branded a paedo, even though the definition explicitly excludes what he did do, which is fuck a young sexually mature woman.

Christ, it’s not like incest and paedophilia is fucking rare, hell, it’s more common than common sense, now that is a fucking rare commodity.

And of course we are “de-escalating” the Crimea shit by sending more troops to the Russian borders, north to south, cunts are TRYING to “accidentally” start world war three… like I said, I used to be the weird one…

In the words of the Goose, I dunno man, I just got here myself…


April 18, 2014

Fucking ignition systems

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 8:14 pm

IMG_20140418_135011Well, after much faffing about, I decided to put the o’scope on the output of the ignition pick up sensors while cranking the engine on the starter.

Scope set to 0.2 V / div, get barely a div, if that, so < 0.2V

Now, at this time I don’t know what stock should be, but that seems way low, I’d have expected 0.6 at least, and then I hear back from the guys at Ignitech, their TCI unit takes 0.7 V minimum to trigger.

So, smoking gun found.

There are several issues here.


Trying to find out what the original spec of the original pickups is supposed to be, if the iron core gets magnetised, even if the coils themselves are intact, this dramatically reduces the output, but, via oscilloscope or AC multimeter, unless you know what they are *supposed* to be, you are on a hiding to nothing.


As you can see from these, and the photo attached, Mr Yamaha, in his wisdom, put these pick-ups on the outer cover, together with the stator windings, which get removed when you pull the outer cover, leaving the main engine lump and the rotor and magnets on the crank… this makes it impossible to set the pick-up to rotor clearance… which is why, as you can see, in his wisdom, Mr Yamaha made these non adjustable, *normally* pick-ups sit on a small mounting plate with two legs, and 30 or 34 mm hole centres, so, har-de-har, yet again *I* have managed to pick something that is non mainstream.

Which makes buying pick-ups difficult, (I strongly suspect the two kinds of luck I will have trying to buy OEM parts is “fuck all” and “none”) because drilling and tapping and mounting “normal” type pickups on this plate is quite doable, but I have to get the gap the same as these, and the position, and I don’t just mean rotary advance / retard position, but also the third axis, pickup centre height so it sits in the correct place axially on the crankshaft and rotor.

I strongly suspect it will be the P2 type from http://www.ignitech.cz/en/vyrobky/accessories/pick-up/pick-up.htm that I end up with, but it may possibly be a P6, because of the resistance, although there is a 1 mm difference in the “height” of the sensor from the mounting plate, which I could adapt for, but I’d rather not, wait and hear from the Ignitech guys…

*Their* problem is they haven’t come across non adjustable pick-ups before, so they are as much in the dark as I am about Mr Yamaha’s foibles.

You see, the real difficulty here, and the reason for writing this post, is that the issue is this whole approach to “black box” systems.

Resistors have colour codes, capacitors have values written on them, other components have part numbers and you can look up their specifications.

It is, quite frankly, fucking indefensible for the motor industry, or any other industry, to shift “black box” systems.

Me knowing from experience that generally speaking most of these pick up systems operate at 0.6 to 2.0 V at tick-over is one thing, it is still a huge range, but the factory TCI unit should state quite clearly what the minimum trigger voltage is (for Ignitech it is 0.7 volts, ideally this data should be on their website, but they are a small independent crowd so…) and nominal expected cranking RPM voltages, and peak voltages.

Similarly, the fucking pick-up units themselves should state not just their nominal resistance (the Haynes book of lies says 220, mine actually read 166) because frankly this just tells you if they are in one of three states, open circuit, short circuit, or something else but presumably working, but also the expected cranking RPM voltages, and peak voltages.

A coil with a highly magnetised fixed iron core is not nearly as sensitive to the “timing mark” lump of iron (in the case of an inert iron core with a very small energiser magnet on the end, which is what 95% of them are) or the magnet swinging by on the rotor.00000.MTS_snapshot_01.23_[2014.04.18_19.33.59]

One of the quick tests that you can do (apologies for getting the tube light reflection in this screen) is cover the sensor with a sheet of A4 paper, and swipe a screwdriver shaft across it.

This is 0.2 V per div, and 1 Ms sweep, so we can see the event duration is about 0.45 Ms, and we are getting about 0.15 V… it matters if your ignition is set to trigger on the rising spike or the dropping spike too….

This is bog standard laser printer A4 paper I am using , 80 gsm, is approximately 0.1 mm thick, so now we fold it in half twice, 4 layers of paper, 0.4 to 0.5 mm thick, remember the ideal pick-up / rotor gap is always around 0.8 mm irrespective of the engine.

Now the more eagle eyes of you will have noticed there is no second o-scope trace pic, because this time the ripple was negligible, the inverse square rule is at work here, and we are only at half the ideal gap, so that would give me a quarter of nothing.

Sure, the rotor itself has a much bigger lump of metal than the screwdriver so will generate much more impulse, hence me getting just under 0.2 V at cranking speed in situ with the proper Mr Yamaha gap, but it becomes interesting because the proper in situ output, which you can only test by fitting new gaskets and lube oil and replacing the outer cover properly, and the dismantled swipe with a screwdriver shafy with a pice of A4 paper in between, are broadly similar in pick-up output voltage terms…

Measuring magnetism is a lot tougher, suffice it to say that the cores of MY pick-ups will *easily* hold a teaspoon by the bowl, where easily is you feel it jerk as it released when you pull it away.

The rotor on mine is non magnetic, (yes, there are magnets INSIDE the rotor, that excite the stator coils….IMG_20140418_135042) as such, there is just a turned slot, and the timing mark is a block that is raised in this slot 2.5 mm, and about 15 mm long, so you see, these dimensions and so on are quite important.

You can see the bit I am talking about here, just above the hollow alloy pipe propping the started bendix to stay on.

So instead of being able to buy or order something according to a spec, which is what it should be, we are presented with “black box” components, and even if you know general ball park numbers for these things, it still isn’t good *enough* for you to go out and order something.

I actually have an untouched spare engine, of unknown internals condition, just bought it just in case, but these parts in that one will be 30+ years old too, and most of the people selling bits on fleabay are selling 30+ year old second hand parts, and know nothing either.

I’m actually at the point where it is almost as easy to retrofit and build a brand new system, and not because the engine is so complex or so precision or so old or anything else.

Because of “black box” engineering, where actual specs, if ever known, never left the design department.


April 15, 2014

ahhh fuckit

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 3:42 pm

You know the story, or maybe you don’t…

One of the things you kept no matter what, even though you disassembled Johnny 5 in the heat of the moment years ago, just in case the vindictive psycho ex decided on a land grab, turn him into scrap.. har har

So what the fuck and years pass and finally you decide it’s time to make slow gradual steps reassembling Johnny 5

One of the things that went completely missing in the intervening years is the wiring loom, though I do have pics of it side cuttered up..lol

But I did all the other shit in the interim, all new wheel bearings, brakes, powder coating, so it wasn’t total neglect, at least, that is what I try to kid myself.

So this bitch is sat there with old oil in her, and one day I decide to botch a basic wiring loom and fire her up…

No Joy, fucking dead.  Ah well, the old Yam TCI units were notorious for being crap anyway.

Fucking carbs are full of shit anyway.

Months pass and I decide to give the guys at Ignitech a call, get me a new TCI unit, new coils and HT leads, and locally get new plugs.

Strip, clean and rebuild the carbs, rig up a temp fuel supply with a funnel hanging from the roof of the shop.

Fit the coils, botch in the new TCI unit (thankfully there is no timing adjustments or anything to do on these “old” jap bikes), connect up the battery and crank the bitch.

Sweet fuck all…

Pull the HT lead and try a spare plug on the engine… nuffink…

Flash the coils (after disconnecting from the TCI) with the +ve supply and ZAP, big fat blue spark, no fucking output from the TCI.

Why no output from a brand new TCI, most likely guess is the 33 year old pick-ups on the crank, the one thing I avoided looking at for now, mainly because it means draining the oil and shit, and I was hoping to fire her up on the old oil and warm the motor, before draining, so now really it will require two oil changes, bitch.

Fuck this shit, what are the chances the old rectifier / regulator is still any good… yeah, that’s what I thought too, another case of putting something off and hoping for the best, and then at a later date being stalled again because it didn’t turn out that way.

So chase the boys at Ignitech, they supply pick-ups and rectifiers, gotta identify the right pick-ups first, and asked them in the interim if there is a method they will accept / approve to simulate a pick-up to the TCI unit and drive a coil to spark, just because, you know, so far I have an assumption, not a smoking gun…

The old pick-ups do give 166 Ohms, which is within book spec, but of course that don’t mean they are working worth shit, just means they aren’t burnt out.

Bitch is cranking and you can hear / feel the compression and she is pumping vapours like she should, just needs a fucking spark… then I could have gotten on with making a new wiring loom…

There is a moral here, the moral is the new TCI unit and coils cost me 200 Euros inc shipping, the new Yuasa YTX-20 about 120 Euros, new plugs 15 to 20 Euros, this morning I discovered that whatever tosser I lent my cable crimp tool to hasn’t returned it, and I only had a 2.99 piece of shit, so went out and bought another stripper / crimper, 45 Euros, while we are at it get some more crimps and heat shrink, another 25 Euros… we’re up to 450 ish Euros

Fucking pick-ups are only about 15 Euros each, and about 110 for the new rectifier, so I already spent the bulk of the fucking money to make a 100% brand new ignition and wiring system, oh yeah, 130 Euros for the two carb rebuild kits and consumables etc.

And because the bitch did not get a spark and start, I cannot sit here and say OK, Johnny 5 is alive, now I can proceed and make the wiring loom and all the other shit I have to do to turn this from a project in the workshop to a street legal and reliable bike.

So these days I have free are, at least as far as project bike is concerned, wasted.

All because I delayed buying the pickups and rectifier, because I was trying to save on an oil change…. because I decided this time to buy the bitch some semi synthetic instead of the usual generic stuff, and that shit is 80 Euros a gallon… plus a new filter.

And new headlights are on the list, and the saddle needs remaking or replacing, and being honest the tank needs swapping for a larger one, as it is the old one is full of rust flakes and the pet-cock is seized solid, needs a final drive chain too, so it’s not like it isn’t going to be a money pit for a while yet… I suspect there is a 1,000 Euros without any problems at all in those little things.

And I haven’t, or won’t, actually save any money, by the time the job is done.

And as I type this, the bitch hasn’t sprung into life and filled my workshop with noise and smell and carbon monoxide, which is a bummer.

And this is a really simple ignition system, you just plug things together, there is no adjustments of any kind that can be made to the ignition electrics.

And I still managed to fuck it up, which is the only definition that really applies when you get up with the plan to start that bitch today…

Spoiling a ship for ha’p’orth of tar.

And because I scared myself a couple of days ago, you know “it’s been a few years since the bitch was run last” and then someone asks you when, exactly… so you start digging through your electronic files.

July 2005, so coming up on NINE mother-fucking years, not “a few”, fucking NINE….  it’s getting to the stage of one of those youtube vids, and here she is, last started in 1926….

(not mine below)

April 14, 2014

Hermit Life – I woebot…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , — wimminz @ 2:16 pm

I was fortunate to grow up in a scholastic system that embraced apartheid, no, so that crap about black and white, but segregating boys and girls.

Girls are like any other wonder drug of programming, the more you are exposed to them, the more alluring they are and the more of their shit you will put up with and the more effort you will expend to gain acceptance by them.

Classrooms are *utterly* different too, not only are there no girls for anyone to impress, you don’t get any “jocks” either… sure, you get one or two boys who start shaving at 14 and are 6 foot and kick ass on the sports fields, but since there are no girls to idolise them they end up talking to everyone, and the class dweeb is quite likely to take the piss out of them to their face.images

Anyone who went through old school men only military training (indeed one of the channels our place fed into was the armed forced officer training lark) will know what I am talking about here, Molseworth Jr might be a right cunt, but he was stuck in the same jug as you, which made him one of yours.

Of course all the shit you get from everyone *else* is that everyone who goes to a boys only school is a right homo / shirt-lifter / cocksucker / takes it up the ass / etc.

For my sins I did some short stints in ordinary mixed schools, and I can tell you, anecdotally and factually, that there is *far* more limp wristed wimpy faggy pathetic shit going on in mixed schools… and I’m not talking percentage points or even orders of magnitude, I’m talking a total fucking absence in one and a total lack of  anything masculine in the other.

These (boarding) schools used to be particularly harsh awakenings for 11 year olds (at the time 11/12 years old was the 1st year of senior school, hence 1st years or 1st form, in your 5th year you sat O level exams and could in theory leave school and go to work, or stay two more years, lower and upper 6th, sit your A levels, and then go to work, or go on to university of college or an academy / OTC etc) who had up until then either avoided school altogether in the colonies, or managed to attend a local day school, and it doesn’t matter which school you went to 1st and 2nd form was always referred to by some name that involved them shitting themselves, because they were the lowest rung on the ladder.

So the little shits are crying themselves, literally, to sleep every night, and nobody gives a shit, get over it kid, and three weeks later a parcel arrives from home, mummy has sent you your favourite chocolate cake and stuff…. which promptly gets stolen / confiscated / taken by the 3rd former who has the unpleasant duty of nursemaiding you little shits this week, making sure you are all up dressed and washed and down for breakfast, making sure your homework is done during prep, making sure you are washed undressed and in bed for lights out.

Which is only fair, because that is what said 3rd former went through when he was a 1st former…

By the second term of the 1st form, you learned to divvy up all your treats instantly amongst everyone else in the dorm, and if the 3rd former takes it first, say nowt, better still invite him to have some, politely, and he will, and you will get the rest back to divvy up.

It was brutal, in the sense that the regime was so powerful compared to the individual that you could not beat it, you could to some extent choose the manner in which you conformed, but conform you will. Choice does not enter into it.

Several years ago I bumped into a chap, managing director of a company, twin screw diesel yacht and villa in Spain, Jag and Bentley in the direway, yadda yadda, hadn’t seen him for years, “Hey Stinky” I said.. no malice in it.

That was his nickname, and everyone had one, every year had a stinky.

Stinky was the quiet shy guy who was too embarrassed to take his clothes off and wash and shower (not that the showers were ever more than lukewarm) with everyone else, and who didn’t understand having to do shit for himself, so every week on the bed the top sheet went on the bottom, new top sheet and new pillow case, and all your laundry went into the old pillow case, so stinky started to smell.

So the other boys ragged on him, which just made him even more turtle in a shell, so about six weeks into his first term they throw him and all his clothes in the showers, on cold, with a bar of soap, and then the bedclothes, (2 sheets 1 pillowcase 1 blanket 1 counterpane I set of pyjamas) too, and tell him, wash yourself and your clothes stinky, and every morning and evening we do not see you washing with everyone else, we do it to you again….  so stinky spent the night in damp pyjamas in a damp bed, shivering.

He never had to be told again, but 6 years later in the upper 6th he was still “stinky” to the rest of his form, and he shall forever remain so, but only to us.

(In the spirit of full disclosure, stinky responded to my greeting with “Hey cunty”, as I was a procurer of “cunt books” eg porn mags I used to swag (steal) from the 6th)

That sort of thing was not an example of brutality, or anything that stood out, that was perfectly normal day to day routine.

“Sport” was of course compulsory, rugby union, running, hurdles, javelin, discus, and cross country, and of course gym 2 hours a week indoors,  you all did them all, no exceptions, no excuses, no allowances. You did not have to be any good at them, but you fucking well did them all.

Broken bones would get you sent off to hospital, anything less it was a sticking plaster or an aspirin, take your pick…. Of course anyone actually being given an aspirin or sticking plaster by the school nurse / matron was purely apocryphal.

If, and I mean if, anyone questioned or commented on any of this, it was to remark that “Boys need toughening up”.

To be strictly fair, the girls equivalents weren’t a hell of a lot better, substitute hockey for rugby and domestic science for woodwork, but the regimes were broadly similar.

But in the same vein, they were unable to have any opportunities to show off in front of boys, so it cut both ways.

Invariably there was always a girls school not too far from a boys school, and so fraternisation with the enemy was inevitable, but it happened out of school hours, and if you got caught actually fucking or worse still there was a pregnancy involved, both parties got expelled “for bringing the school into disrepute” which was of course code for being so stupid you got caught.

Again, anyone who has been through old school military will tell you, just because some things are strictly controlled and regimented, it doesn’t mean there is no wriggle room… and it makes the small victories all the more important.

One of the rules was you always had to wear the standard school tie, and yes, you had to year it around the collar of your shirt, nowhere else, and you also had to tie your tie in a Windsor Knot.

No room for expression there… right?


One of my claims to fame was I always had the smallest knot of anyone ever on my school ties, if you tried to just pull it tight eventually you would tear the thing, I had a secret method that involved the application of certain things that made the threads soft and stretchy and slidely, and you only needed to slide the knot a few inches to take the tie off and put it on, you never had to actually undo it… a win for me amongst my form mates, and a win for me from our chemistry teacher.


The point of all this is you go out into the world after school, and girls are no aliens, you know about them, you aren’t shy or anything, the big thing is you utterly lack the 5 or 6 years of absorbing their shit that you get in mixed schools.

Public (UK public, US private) school girls have said the same thing to me, mixed school guys are such effeminate wimps, or troglodytes… like Nigel above.

When you cater to boys and girls simultaneously, it damages both.

The Hermit is therefore someone who does not habitually socialise and acclimatise with whatever it is they are being a hermit from.

It’s the same sort of gap you get between someone who has never been in the services, and someone who has, they always know each other apart… almost always… ex services guys always think ex boarding school guys are all ex services, even though many of them are not, and are ex cons instead..lol

MGTOW is Hermit life.

Abstaining from female company, especially if you are also able to do so in the work environment, makes you much less socialised and acclimatised and attuned to da wimminz.

In my entire adult life, I have co-habited with females for perhaps 10 years.

Of those ten years, perhaps only 2 were actually sharing a double bed, I’d say another 2 years of twin beds, and the remaining 6 years as separate beds and bedrooms.

For the other 20+ years, I have lived alone. Bachelor Boy.

Hermit Boy.

The “culture shock” for me to move into, for example, some skank’s house who has two daughters, and be the new man of the house and play happy families, is probably as great as the culture shock stinky faced all those years ago.

And, crucially, by the time you do adapt, and socialise, and acclimatise, you will no longer be the same person.

You will no longer be the Hermit.

I am at an age now when many factors conspire against me, there are logarithmically less *young* wimminz interested in someone who is mid fifties, as opposed to mid forties, it’s not a big step in age, but it is for many a step too far.

Kids are another thing, I may be biologically capable, but temperament wise I’m getting too old for all that shit, I’ve seen the film before, and it wasn’t what it was cracked up to be, more re-runs don’t interest me.

Wimminz aren’t blind to this shit either, they just see an old dog who can’t be made to learn new tricks, and there ends their interest… huge, vast, unimaginable difference for a wimminz between a “bachelor” and a “confirmed bachelor”

“Confirmed bachelor” is just as alluring and attractive to wimminz as “Hermit”

Which brings me, finally, to the point of this post.

I see lots of younger MGTOW types, and they are trying to have their cake and eat it, and they will cite George Clooney as indicative of something about wimminz here.

They want to be the socially aware and attuned and acceptable Hermit, who gets offers all the time from 7′s and 8′s and 9′s, but who still does their own thang.

It don’t work like that guys.

I did not end up spending most of my life, and in all probability the rest of my life, living as a Hermit because I chose to live in a cave, and chose to not get involved with Julie and Jackie and Jane.

I ended up in a cave because I became a Hermit, and no fucker wants to live in a cave, least of all with me.

And THAT is what you have to make peace with bro.

You can either be your own Hermit, and accept that no wimminz wants to live in a cave, least of all with you, or you can quit being a Hermit, and allow yourself to be made over into something else entirely, a different person entirely.

Self and isolation, or the death of self and companionship, that is the choice.

Make it well, because by the time you get to my age, which will happen faster than you think, the die will be cast and you won’t get a say in it no more.


April 12, 2014

The Personal Computer – part four.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , — wimminz @ 12:06 am

Before I dig too far into this, some personal anecdotes.

Back in the day, I decided to experiment with liquid cooled computing. Y’all know the score, much talk about Cray and Flourinert, and a couple of hobby things with water cooling closed circuit style.

Lots of talk, lots of speculation, but no real meat and potatoes.

So, I had a socket 754 Intel lying around having just upgraded, time to play.01748_DSCF0003

After much research I found that “mineral oil” was the thing to go for, for the home hobbyist / experimenter, so where to get it? Eventually I found a place to buy “liquid paraffin”, which is the same thing by a different name, it’s a horse laxative, and you can buy it in gallon cans for not a lot of money.

This stuff is good because it is reasonably viscous, clear, not very hygroscopic, and quite hard to ignite.

So I proceeded to find an old (glass, not acrylic, for thermal transfer and dissipation) fish tank, and set about cutting bits of acrylic to carry everything, and also stripped EVERYTHING down to bare bones, PSU the lot.

I decided to be really clever, and use a pair of WD Raptors (these were fucking expensive back in the day) striped for speed, and cooled by the oil, but out of contact with it, by way of sitting them in some ziplok bags, and yes, I tested the bags for 72 hours first to see if they would degrade.

Now, no well done experiment is a failure, because they all lead to valid and useful data, and such was the case here.

What really killed this experiment was the oil wicking up the insides of the SATA cables, osmosis style, out of the oil and back down again to the SATA connectors in the HD’s and thence to the inside of the HD’s, which of course killed em, stone fucking dead.

It took 10 days to wick in, but it got there in the end.

However, there were quite a few other interesting “discoveries”

1/ It was genuinely, truly, totally fucking silent.

2/ It did not necessarily cool the PC better, but it cooled it more evenly, eg the range of temperatures across the mainboard were all within a degree or so of each other.

3/ It weighs a lot more than you think.

4/ Note the 120mm fan, yes, fans do work in oil, just slower, and pure convection alone wasn’t nearly as optimal as sticking a fan in there to stir it up.

5/ note also the fans on CPU and northbridge, same story.

6/ In an air cooled PC the coolant “leaks” everywhere, but since it is air it don’t matter, in this one the coolant leaked everywhere too, hence the containment vessel of the fish tank… the big difference is the thermal mass of the contained coolant, this thing would take 30 minutes of gaming to even nudge the overall coolant temp.. I experimented first with 4 x 150 watt aquarium heaters BTW.

7/ You really, really, really need a fixed and stable build, hardware wise, it’s hard to describe the mess when you try to pull one component or add some RAM etc…. once it is lagged in oil you DARE not put any power on it after you pull it, and thin layer of oil is a great insulator.

8/ Add some LED’s, and one word, “Aurac” from Blakes 7, woot…

Prior to this you ended up running air cooled, and if you ran rack mount kit, particularly 1U kit, that meant lots of noisy little 40 mm fans running in harmonic like bombers engines, this shit on the right was in the hallway, and you could hear it all over the house.

But ultimately, this back-story is just that, it is a back-story to highlight what it means to indulge in Personal Computing.

Nowadays world and dog can go out and buy a Raspberry Pi, , its the modern equivalent of those 100 electronic experiments peg board toys you used to get, which were 10 different ways to wire up a bell, 10 different ways to wire up a light, and … no… no op amp, 555 timer, or anything else, so everyone who bought the fucking thing is going to do the same “experiments”

I know, I’ll go and buy a 3d extrusion printer, and download the same skull file everyone else does, the same iphone cover everyone else does, the same naked woman everyone else does.

It’s not PERSONAL.

The big problem with this is that unless you get to play with something, you don’t get to learn… I made a living for a year or two in the sweet spot between discovering that 99% of laptop batteries contained 18650 li-on cells, and all you needed was them and a charge regulating circuit and the “fuse” chip, all of which I could get from china cheap and fresh, and after-market batteries becoming a mainstream business… an option that was only possible because I could play, which is something you can only do with YOUR property.

YOU never own an iphone or ipad, it is “sold” to you under licence.

Now we are even going away from that, cloud compute is all about using some remote CPU power, so your device doesn’t need any, some remote storage, so your device doesn’t etc… and you really can’t play with something that is 75 millisecond ping away somewhere, who knows where…

This part has been delayed a week, because I have ummed and aahed about this next bit.

Amongst the other junk I have in my workshop are a couple of ex UK MOD EHT sources, they came out of the back of big radar sets, 12 VDC current limited to an amp or two in and a nice fat spark at the rate of 5 to 7 a second out that will jump a 5 mm air gap with ease, so we are probably looking at around 10 KV minimum.

I got these and a dozen big 3 farad 350 V caps for an experiment.

A couple of years ago a guy I know is around, we start playing, we discuss this, I say yes, the voltages are *similar* to a piezo kitchen gas igniter, but if it goes to your finger while the gas igniter will make you yelp and then it will pass, with these babies it will really fucking hurt, and it will still hurt 24 hours later too, much more current (I have had this argument before too, coil or electronic ignition vs a magneto) so don’t ask me why but we got to zapping some various old bits of electronics, and it turning into junk.

He decides he wants a EHT generator.

I tell him plasma globes have the same sort of thing, (but much less powerful) just break it apart, throw away the globe and the base, you’ll get a tiny PCB and the EHT wand and a 12 V supply jack.

Couple of days later he has made this thing up, he shows it to me, 8 x AA cells and a bunch of self amalgamating tape and an old marigold glove and he has a portable zapper.

I have no idea why, maybe it is just me, but it never occurred to me to question WHY he wanted this, and it was only later that I recalled saying “oh yes, won’t make a difference” and proceeded to demonstrate that applying the EHT to the end of a CAT5 cable, with the other end 10 metres away plugged into some crappy old D link 4 port home switch, was still instant death to the D link.

Only later being after (I can talk about this now) I heard that the ISP he worked at lost a whole rack of switches and routers, basically half their infrastructure.

No obvious reason why either, the whole lot just didn’t do what it should, some boxes power cycled endlessly, some powered up but did nothing, some didn’t power up, none of them worked, and of course the server room was sealed, and he didn’t have a key, but he did have access to the other end of the CAT5 that went into one port one ONE of these switches….

This is not an isolated incident, I know, but can’t prove, of at least a dozen other incidents of this scale, all different people and places, it’s the dirty little secret, JEDEC vramp and uramp, silicon chips and proms and fpga etc are all hideously susceptible to high voltages, and if you limit the current there are no visual clues whatsoever.

I only discovered this by accidentally meeting a guy called Tom, I needed an electronics whizz for a project, I found Tom, Tom made a steady living potting two female RS232 sockets in a short piece of poly pipe, of course inside the poly pipe and potting was an opto-isolator.

So periodically someone new stumbles across this dirty little secret, and decides to have some mischief, or revenge, or just plain I wonder what will happen if,,, oh shit…  and because almost nobody experiments any more, nobody but the likes of me has any inkling what is going on when a bit of expensive electronics suddenly stops working or starts acting very strangely.

Now I personally know of at least two people who have used this method to circumvent what we can call “reluctant” “cough” Seagate “cough” warranty departments, who would accept a DOA return, but not something with an intermittent fault, or which worked, but nowhere near where it was supposed to.

It is anecdotal and a rumour, but I was told of one northern uk police department where an orifice accidentally discharged his taser getting into the car, the barbs went into the wiring loom under the dash / footwell, and took out *everything* not just the onboard computers and digital video, but the vehicle electronics as well.

The point that I am trying to address here, is that the lack of Personal Computing removes the opportunity from everyone to learn anything of any depth greater than what icon to hit with what gesture to open an app, and this includes those who end up designing, building, maintaining and working with this kit.

Everything has a switch mode PSU now, which is a *very* flexible piece of kit, gone are the days (in countries with a 220 VAC mains supply) of causing much hilarity and issuance of magic smoke by turning off a co-workers PC at the wall, putting the switch on the back of the PSU to 110, and sitting back and waiting.


But the flexibility of the switch mode PSU and its ability to “eat” almost anything has also led to the creation of a whole new breed of UPS’s and inverters that put out modified sine wave, where modified means it looks like a set of escher stairs, it’s got fuck all to do with sine waves.

Because I love you guys, and I am a generally fluffy and cool guy, I just went out back, pulled a brand new DC power supply from a brand new in the box 500 quid cisco router with 12 VDC in, and look what you see.

(Yes, I know it looks like AC, but it is really just the ripple on DC)

0.2 V per div, and three pics taken about a second apart, not only is there AC ripple, it is quite significant, and variable, ranging from around 0.6 V to 1.0 V, there is also a significant amount of higher order transient noise, you can SEE where the DC rectification is being done badly by cheap components, that themselves rely on some sort of capacitance and tolerance in the input stage of the device being powered.

Yes, it’s a shitty old single trace 40 MHz Hitachi, but it still works, and it is light years ahead of “no scope and relying on the label on the device in question”

Now I’m not an electronics guy, but to me, if I was telling an electronics guy to build me a 12 VDC PSU for a 500 quid router, and he produced that, the cunt would be looking for a new job.

I’d expect 12 VDC plus or minus 0.12 V, which is only 1% tolerance, and I’d expect fuck all ripple, which is only a couple of 50 cent caps in the PSU output stage… which would also prevent start up spike and shit.

Now, with all of the above, I am not suggesting that ordinary commercial kit should be able to withstand the direct application of 10 KV, but I am suggesting that only a fucking lunatic would interconnect a rack containing upwards of 100k worth of kit with CAT5, which is an ELECTRICAL conductor first and foremost, and not say to themselves, hmmm, this means that anything that hits anything in this rack is going to hit everything in this rack, I might wanna take some precautions here…

220 or 110 volts AC would have done as good a job as the EHT, it would just have left evidence, magic smoke and burnt tracks and tripped breakers. Hell I can remember seeing articles about in in dead tree magazines, cat 5 and RJ 11 and coax all wired to mains sockets and called variations of “modem buster” etc.

Personal Computing is then the difference between knowing various bits and pieces of biology and medicine and first aid, and having an app on your iphone to take your pulse.

Personal computing is the difference between owning and maintaining and driving your own car, or calling the cab company, and not actually knowing if you are being taken on the quickest and most direct route… you see, there are always follow on bits of ignorance that lead from initial bits of ignorance… give up the role of driver, you give up the role of navigator too…

Computing has become such a fundamental and intricate part of every day life, that a lack of personal computing of necessity means being ignorant of much of every day life.

It simply is not possible for you to grasp or understand most of it.

High Frequency Trading, you have no hope of understanding what it REALLY is, unless you have prior knowledge of the old racket where the mob used to get the horse race results from a town 500 miles away before the bookies did… hell there was even a good film about a guy who did it in Australia, can’t remember what it is called now.

If you, reading this, could see all those pictures and knew what they depicted without the need for captions, and if you could follow everything discussed here without the need to google it, then you are blessed my son, and I’ll wager, you are someone who has direct experience of Personal Computing.

If you had difficulty, then I will wager you have no direct experience of Personal Computing, just Computing, with your sealed for life, non customisable, as it comes from the factory, tamper proof, sold under licence only, computing device.

And as computing is inherent to modern life, that should scare you… lots.


In closing, EHT is no fucking joke, any spark is an arc, and any arc is a conductor, if you happen to create a current path via an arc to some powerful source, eg 440 VAC, the consequences could be not merely painful or expensive but fatal.

If you want to play with EHT, at the very least always keep your feet insulated from ground, and one hand in your pocket, preferably your favourite hand.

If you want to zap things with EHT, see the first point above, disconnect them from ALL power sources first, and all further electrical connections and interconnects.

April 11, 2014

Letters to the Ephesians.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 2:52 pm

I went to one of “those” schools, expensive, so you had 11 year old boys running around calling each other cretins instead of shitbag.

Every sunday one unfortunate inmates H^H^H^ pupils would be selected to go up on the altar and read the gospel, you were told a few days beforehand both that it was your turn, and what gospel you were expected to read, so you could practice.

Mine was supposed to the the letter to the ephesians, whoever the fuck they were, but on the morning in question I was told no, that one isn’t being done now, it’s going to be teh letter to teh cretans….. so I got dared to stand up and say the letter to teh cretins… no fucking way I said, I’m already in enough trouble and second in the all time school league table of corporal punishments in one term.

But, the human brain is a funny old thing, and so there I was, desperately telling myself to say cretans, not cretins, and so the words pop out of my mouth, St Paul (or whoever it was) letter to the cretins… much tittering from the assembled, except for the warders H^H^H^ teechers… oh shit…

For some reason today I was taken back to that time, I said the thing I was telling myself not to say under any circumstances.

It was about morals, and ethics, and standards.

These fuckers running stuff, they have none, so any that we have a merely a hindrance.

“What’s worse, one child being raped or one thousand children dying?”

Obviously it’s the thousand dying, it doesn’t require any thought or computation at all, in fact the only time the answer is any different is if the one in question is my own flesh and blood, and the thousand are in some far off land.

I dunno, maybe it is a function of increasing age, but all the sacred moral and ethical cows are dying like plump piglets in a biafran village…. and fuck you and everyone else who rode in on the horse that tries to gaslight that question above into me being pro-paedo.

I’m just not anti it so much…


You know, we all have bigger fucking fish to fry, and bigger cunts to hang from trees on the village green.

If I hadn’t been separated on pain of imprisonment from my own children, I am 100% confident in my ability to protect them from any hordes of wandering paedos…. protecting them from our glorious leaders, not so fucking much.

Of course if your kids are dead in shallow graves from the socio-economic collapse and world war three, they have nothing to fear from paedos, it just seems a little extreme to me as a countermeasure.

Come a global collapse, say a friend asked me to care for and raise her daughters, as in hers, no ours, none of my DNA in there, what’s in it for me? If I don’t get to fuck them?

I’m not asking this question from a paedo perspective, I’m asking it from a purely mercenary perspective.

The *reason* I am asking it from a purely mercenary perspective is to highlight the hypocrisy, our western (which decreasingly means US foreign policy) attitude to the Ukraine is after all a purely mercenary one, as was our attitude to Syria, Iran, Iraq, Libya, etc etc etc.

And if it is all hypocrisy, then surely hypocrisy on a grand scale involving tens or hundreds of thousands is worse than hypocrisy one small child at a time.

Which is the greater evil?

And then ask yourself, what policy at home allows our glorious leaders to continue that, with our tacit blessing, while also rendering us unable to compete, as the man armed with morals and ethics will surely lose to the mercenary.

I was already given the choice of sacrificing myself futilely, or simply walking away, either way my kids are taken from me by force by the state.

You think any other child on the planet is worth more to me?

They are not worth anything to our glorious mercenary leaders, so it is you, dear reader, with your morals and your ethics and your standards, who is out of fucking touch.

April 8, 2014

Dreams are what it means

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 9:02 pm

So you’re having a dream, and next thing you know you’re riding in a vehicle that you know is scrapped, rapping with a guy you know is dead, discussing some shit that happened yesterday, and then you’re flying, it’s all crazy impossible shit, but it’s just a dream hey….

… so then some fuckwit will talk about interpreting dreams, how they are the mind’s way of sorting shit, analysing shit, filing shit… it’s all bollocks.

It’s all bollocks because dreams are just the ripples on the surface of the mind, of course in a dream, nothing that breaks the dream is permitted, because after all, this isn’t a scenario being run in the whole mind, you may well have 16 gigs of ram in there, but that shit is asleep, and the dream is just an 8 kilobyte demo being run in the on board cache, it just doesn’t have the processing power to run a proper simulation, so not only are corners cut and reality suspended for the duration, but the very fact that corners have been cut and reality has been suspended is itself prohibited from being seen… there just ain’t the system resources.

Back in the day I played with dogs and acid, I was on the acid, the dogs weren’t, but I got an insight into small brain size, intellect wise, you can process shit in great detail, but only one thing at a time, easy to get distracted, or surprised, and the last thing you were doing is just forgotten man.

So I’m chatting to one of my fellow employees today over a coffee or three after yet another pointless job, we’re shooting the shit, and it gets to HQ staff, which includes some of the wimminz, who are as much use as tits on a bull… and we discuss the latest piece of insanity from a skank ho I used to pump and dump before she got too crazy for me to put up with.

So he says to me “Do you think all wimminz are crazy then?

So I look at him and think for a moment, and say “It is interesting, the way you phrase that question, you have a default assumption that all wimminz are not crazy, and I must argue that they are…. What if that is not the case, why start from an assumption that being crazy is not the default state for wimminz?

Which gets us into a potentially difficult discussion about what is the definition of crazy, before we can say crazy is a default yes or no assumption for all wimminz.

Except it isn’t, to me, all that difficult, if you listen to the words people actually use, eventually they are telling you all about themselves, not what they SAY, or CLAIM, but the words they actually use, for example wimminz will talk about another chapter, like their life is a fucking book, eg a fucking fictional novel…. hello… did you listen?

And the best / easiest layman’s description that I can come up with that answers the question, WHAT THE FUCK, when some insane act or deed or words come out of a wimminz, is this.

It’s all a fucking dream.

Corners are cut and reality is suspended for the duration, and the 9 million ton elephant in the corner is the fact that corners are cut and reality is suspended for the duration.

What’s the phrase you hear an old man use time and time and time again when talking to a young man who is cunt struck from hanging around wimminz all the time.

Fucking wake up boy.

Listen to the words.

The yanks (used to) say “airhead”, but it means the same thing, the bitch’s skull is full of dreams, and not dreams like men mean, dreams about being a racing driver or shit, but DREAMS, dreams that embody cut corners and suspended reality, ludicrous, preposterous, stupid shit that no conscious waking intellect could maintain.


So, lets do some empirical analysis.

You wish to achieve a change from state A to state B in a wimminz.

You have two options, which one is a logical conscious male brain likely to select as the strategy most likely to work, and what will an experienced red pill mother-fucker tell you will actually work?

1/ I’m the man you’ve always dreamed of, and you’re my bitch.

2/ I’m a reliable and practical man with a trade and many skills, you’ll never have to worry about your car breaking down or the washing machine door refusing to open, I have a good job, the family is healthy so genetically our kids would be good…. yadda yadda yadda.

We have already stipulated the the REASON corners are cut and reality is suspended in dreams is simply because the tiny piece of the brain doing the dreaming simply does not have the processing capacity for anything that complex.

How the fuck do you expect option #2 in blue above to fit into said 1k input buffer without destroying the whole dream state?

Wake the fuck up boy.

Here is a FUCKING FACT for your waking and conscious intellect to process.

You KNOW, either first or second hand, of a whole fucking raft of cases where a wimminz wakes up, having dreamt that her boyfriend cheated on her, and proceeds to give him a fucking hard time for what the dream him did to the dream her, and when he, quite logically, says WTF bitch, you’re giving me shit for something YOU dreamt about in YOUR fucking head, she gets even more irate on his ass….

You KNOW that shit actually fucking happens in the real world.

Is there any way you can explain this shit away in a rational conscious intellect?

Or is it the sort of thing that can only fly in dreamland when you’re riding with a dead guy in a car tat got crushed ten years ago, discussing something that happened to you yesterday, when the car suddenly starts flying….

So why not start with a default assumption that being crazy is the natural state for wimminz, and the definition of crazy in this context meaning to live in a fucking dreamworld.

I mean, really, you take the high all bitches are sane road, and I’ll take the low all bitches are crazy road, and I’ll be in poontang land afore ye…

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