Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

June 28, 2014

Happy birthday bro

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: — wimminz @ 11:19 am

So there I was dropping some presents off, as you do when you get elected to be the free DHL guy by dint of the fact you actually do pass that way now and again, and it is off the beaten track for everyone else, not that I want to give any wrong impressions here, I have known this guy forever, hell, one of his now-all-growed-up sons is named after me, I can’t say I particularly like him, nor do I have an issue with him, it’s just the whole second marriage and marriage has to work at any cost thing that leaves me cold.

So anyway, because I am the free DHL guy as opposed to the paid version, and all of the above, it’s wasn’t a crash priority pre 10:30 to get that shit there on the day, so they akshully got there middayish the day after his fucking birthday… cuntish? Not so much, he’s out at work, so his bitch invites me in for a coffee, mini biatch is there too, school’s out, but not the way old Alice sang it, turns out they were all so busy running around after mini biatch, it being fucking school prom night, fancy dresses and stretch limo’s and all that imported American pwintheth bullshit, that this guy only got round to opening his own presents at 20 minutes to midnight, of birthday celebrations for himself, not so fucking much.

Don’t get me wrong, as a mid fifties guy myself I don’t give a fuck about birthdays, or presents, or any other bullshit, it’s just another day to me, if it happens to fall on a working day, so what, but, there is a fucking world of difference between *that* and then coming home after a day’s work and spending all my evening until nearly fucking midnight running around after some mini skank… you dig…

Bitch looks at mini biatch the way some low IQ bint with acrylic nails looks at her first ever cupcake from the $1,000 K-tel cup-cake-o-matic machine, with awe and pride at what she has “made”….. smug shit eating self satisfied smiles, do I wanna see her fucking prom dress… no, not really, she’s a sexless little skank so I’m not even that interested in seeing her out of her fucking prom dress, know what I mean.

Meanwhile mini skank is “talking to me” for values of talking to me that if you write it down and read it, it sounds like a polite young lady, how are you, are you well, oh that’s nice, of course there isn’t even an ounce of sincerity in it, bitch knows nothing about me, and I don’t just mean on an existential level, we don’t spend any time in each other’s company, and I have a sneering curl to my lip as I watch some mini skank try to blow smoke up my ass while devoting 95% of her attention to the fucking ipad…

I slurp down the rest of my designer coffee from the $1,500 designer coffee machine and boogie.

If I could find me a woman who was not a shallow worthless lying fuck I’d be all over that ass, but that would be like finding a fucking penguin in the Sahara, it really doesn’t matter what the genetics or anything else has to say, there really just isn’t the environment for an aquatic bird to survive more than a day or so, vultures-r-us.

I guess that’s what yesterdays post was all about, I see a penguin in the fucking desert, and some small quisling part of me wants to plop down a walk in freezer right next to it with the door open.

Course if you do, the fucking “penguin” won’t walk in, much less walk in and high five you and then blow you out of gratitude, because it isn’t a fucking penguin, just a vulture on the way back from a hen party dressed as a nun.

The vulture will die in that environment, just as the modern skank ho slut will die in an environment that a man would create for “wife and partner”, the whole domestic scene, it’s as fatal to the vulture as the desert is to the penguin.

That’s why the bitches don’t take you up on your offer, sure, they are momentarily impressed by some cunt with the agency and ability to plonk Arctic conditions down in the middle of a desert, but unless you are going to use that agency and ability to produce a pile of dead fluffy baby bunny wabbits for them to gorge on…. WTF is the point.

I was going to sit here and type “I might as well…” but the fact is, it’s not might as well, I really do pine for the days when you could get on a motorcycle and ride that bitch, and there were no computers or digital anything, unless da po-lice actually physically fucking stopped you and nicked you, you weren’t nicked, none of this shit about speed camera photos landing on your doormat 10 days later, or automatic number plate recognition systems checking instantly and live with centralised computer databases of data, or fucking photo-card licences or anything else.

I pine for them because I experienced them, sure, the end of them, but I did experience them, in the flesh, myself.

But, there is an essential element of human nature we are omitting here, lets say I start out looking for a bog standard 1970 style and ethos motorsickle, but brand new, from a dealer, it doesn’t matter why, recapturing my lost youth if you like, the point here is supply and demand, this is the thing I want to buy.

The dealers only want to sell me iphone with two wheels attached.

I get a bit more aggressive about what I want, fuck bog standard 70’s shit, I want a Z1.

The dealers point at the new for 2014 tree hugging electric iphone on wheels.

I get a bit more aggressive, now I want a Harris frame Z1, 4 into 1 open megaphones, and matt black, all matt black

You see where this is going, and it applies to all human beings everywhere.

The skanks, for their part, as soon as they started down the unrealistic demands for men, started narrowing the field of what was available, and their response to that was to get ever more demanding.

Guys, we have done the same, wimminz that quite frankly would have been acceptable to be as co-habiting material in 1990 weren’t acceptable in 2000, and what was acceptable in 2000 wasn’t acceptable in 2010.

We end up increasingly sectarian, with the odd alien intrusion here and there, the proverbial hap-illy married couple that are still in love and still married 40 years on… and going strong…

Of course every time you buy a mad max warrior bike that turns out to be an electric scooter with a body kit, you get more cynical and sectarian, which is where the thing comes from about wimminz who have already bailed on one father of her womb turds / relationshit being a doubly risky bet for any subsequent relationshit.

Yeah, the bitch is genuinely a really good fuck, but she already has two different kids by two different fathers, plus she is overweight, what the fuck else do you need to know?

Just that it is the nature of the man to try to fix shit, even shit that can’t be fixed, and maybe, you tell yourself, at the dealer’s urging, that the iphone with wheels is still better than walking.

I guess it’s the same reason I don’t go to concerts any more, or bike rallies, or the IoM, or any of that shit, it isn’t a case of nostalgia ain’t what it used to be, fnaar fnaar, but that shit really ain’t what it used to be.

As someone who grew up around shit like the original Z1, not just buying, but even riding a retro like the 1100 zephyr, it’s not just fucking “less”, but because it is trying to ape something that is no longer, it won’t just make me hunger even more for a real Z1, oh no, that won’t be fucking good enough any more, I want the fucking rest of the deal too, po-lice without computers and cameras and digital shit, bitches wearing tight jeans and knee high boots and frilly white blouses and wescots, 80 pence a gallon petrol, a fucking pint of beer for 40 p and a packet of fags for 32 p, and while we are at it, I want my fucking hair back too, and I want to once again be able to do a couple of blotters of acid and a couple of wraps of speed and chain smoke grass and cannabis and drink several pints of beer, not just in a day, but every fucking day….

You see the problem with not giving a person the basics, and then baiting them with plastic imitations of the real thing…

The baiting is just adding insult to injury.  Much better to just shrug and say them days are gone, y’all ain’t ever going to ride some bitching piece of machinery half way to oblivion to check out Sniff and the Tears opening for Kansas no more.

That, or start being realistic, both as buyers and sellers, nobody got fuck all to offer, nobody willing to pay more than 5c for anything, nobody trusts anyone, it’s the flea market at the refugee camp, people with one shoe and one sock hoping to do enough roundabout trades to get two shoes, or maybe two socks, or maybe just some bog roll and a blow job…..  just take a fucking hike with all that other shit that is your stock in trade today bitch.

Couple of fat old attitude dripping bitches, that’s where I was heading back from when I did the free DHL birthday delivery guy thing that this post started with, up their own asses, why don’t I come back some time and spend some money in their shop because they are lovely wimminz, the fact that it took me, a fucking man, to drive to your fucking useless shop that doesn’t stock anything I fucking want and fix your fucking internet connection so you could actually fucking TRADE…. crickets…



  1. And in other news, the poooor wimminz are oh so oppressed and don´t cha know IN DANGER!

    Quick! Capn save a HO to the rescue!

    Fucken ridiculous.

    BTW I heard from some other ornery old bastard that the current biggest problem the US “cyber warriors” have with Russia is that the fuckers are still hardly connected. Can´t fuck with their infrastructure at all, still the “middle ages” over there.
    Which is of course supremely unfair to the Cybercowboys, heh.

    Maybe you´ll have better luck finding vestiges of your good old times over there.
    Then again you´ll have to deal with Russians. 😉

    Comment by hans — June 28, 2014 @ 2:56 pm

  2. “$1,000 K-tel cup-cake-o-matic machine”

    Pyrex bowl, wire wisk, cast iron dutch oven on a hot plate. Works for me. It’s been decades since I’ve met a woman who can cook anywhere near as well as I can, even with all the gadgets.

    “I want the fucking rest of the deal too, po-lice without computers and cameras and digital shit . . .”

    One of the other reasons I only ride fixed wheel push bikes these days. With the crap sort of seperated bike paths we get I can even feel a bit like ol’ T.E. letting a Brough Superiour loose on a farm road.

    Up to and including getting punted off after coming over a blind brow. Only these days the overweight punter was on a plastic bike (because a light bike is faster), dressed in neon plastic clothes, topped off with a plastic twat hat.

    And what caused her to veer straight at me and force me off?

    That’s right, you got it in one. She was messing with her iPhone.

    Comment by kfg — June 29, 2014 @ 5:08 am

RSS feed for comments on this post.

Sorry, the comment form is closed at this time.

%d bloggers like this: