Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

March 25, 2013

Bearish on lead

And so the story goes, thanks to my recently acquired gainful employment I have renewed some old and dying but essential technology in the man cave, to whit, a new coffee percolator and new expresso machine, and added a few more vacuum packed cubes of Lavazzo to the stores.wp-1364224788329

Currently here in the UK we are a week and a bit away from the end of the tax year, so a combination of that and the jitters from the cyprus thing appears to be sufficient explanation for a slowdown in my workload, so far my diary is empty, so today I have been paid to sit at home in my kitchen and savour many cups of bloody good coffee while farting around on the net, which included PoF etc.

PoF, it has to be said, is going through a dry patch, the wimminz on there are desperate to the point of hysteria, and it is always falling over at the same point, my “me in a shirt and tie” private profile (what I like to call my “the accused” pic)  pic just ain’t cutting the ice in these times, what’s needed is clearly the leather jacket and cheroot right after I have said to someone off camera “and ze oooozy nine milli-meeta“… smooth is out, butch is in.

However, on the swinging / kink sites it’s going the other way, these wimminz always preferred the “I am gonna rape you and axe murder you, and maybe not in that order” profile pic, but now they are increasingly running away from that and running towards the smooth fucker in a shirt at tie, what I see as the only essential difference between these two groups of wimminz is the ones on the kink sites cop to having taken a load of cock, and the ones on the PoF site pretend they ain’t… amusing when you spot the same person on two or three different sites, with different profiles to match.

I’m thinking yet again it is time for me to give up smoking, in parlous times it is a lousy drug to be using, and it ain’t exactly a cheap hobby, and I may be needing the extra lung capacity

I’m also going bear-ish on sex toys, looks like we have seen the bottom of the market and the only way prices are going now is up, and the only way the supply and manufacturing chain is going is down IMHO. This is of course also going to apply to anything sex related on the internet, now is not the time to invest in fancyafuck.com…

I’m also seeing strong parallels between those who are unaware of the nature of wimminz so play the white knight in an attempt to get laid, and those who are unaware of the nature of the economy… I guess this really shouldn’t surprise me as the two share so many common elements, but it does anyway.

One thing this new job has been good for is it as gotten me travelling on someone else’s dime, or fuel card, so I am basically seeing a different town’s high street every day, and every last fucking one of them is dead, no fucker walking around with shopping bags, and coincidentally in every one the local councils are spending money like fucking water on infrastructure and pavements and pedestrianisation and other bullshit, it’s all pre April 6th, pre end of the tax year stuff.

In fact the only thing I am even remotely tempted to go bullish on is guys like me who have gotten out from under the cloven hoof of the wimminz and the state and debt, the future is looking pretty damn good, surplus of poontang, 6 months worth of coffee and bog rolls in stock, and a job that I could walk away from now, but which would in fairness set me up for another year if I can get another three months out of it…

Like the saying goes, it is an ill wind that blows no good….

May 1, 2012

By the river’s dark

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 4:21 pm

It’s a Cohen song


But the point, the point isn’t even the song, the lyrics, the fact that it is one of some 40,000 on the mp3 jukebox… don’t get me started on quality or audiophiles, nothing in less than 192kbit/sec, and my home is not an anechoic chamber, it sits on a main road opposite a major railway line and river all within 100 metres.

The fact is that I sit directly in front of my Giant flat screen TV / Media centre PC monitor, at just the right height.

To either side, again at just the right height, and just the right position left and right for the ideal stereo image. and on solid granite bespoke stands sit my old but trusty 1981 Technics speakers, fed by the trusty old 1980 Sony tuner, playing sounds that could date anywhere from the fifties through classical to current shit.

On the coffee table are two laptops (actually one, one is on my lap as I type this) and over to the side is my Android smart-phone on charge and running AirDroid so I can access it and control it through a web browser interface on my wifi LAN.

Sat next to me is a proper coffee made in my proper coffee machine, which sits in pride of place in my kitchen, which is incidentally clean as usual, all work surfaces wiped down and clear and clean, my coffee machine is sat where it is easiest and nicest to work with, not just shoved in a corner.

Next to my bed, on the side I generally prefer to sleep, is my lamp, and opposite is my clock, the kind I like e.g. a station clock with a large analogue face and a mechanism that makes a nice loud TICK sound.

Last night at one am I started to watch Robocop, just because I felt like it, and needed no by your leave from anyone else…. today I went to my barber as it has been a couple of weeks and had my usual #1 cut all over and the edges trimmed, while I am there my phone beeps and a skank ho is asking if she can see me and suck my cock before the weekend, I put her off because I have a prior with my fave.

Tomorrow I’m back in court, my psycho skank ho ex, the never ending issue of my boys getting unrestricted access to and contact with their family, and eventually their daddy, in which my psycho skank ho ex thinks she is punishing me, by keeping herself out of my fucking life.

The other job I did today was stop by my mum’s place and see she was ok, this is one thing she (my psycho skank ho ex) is guaranteeing she will not have in old age, boys who give a fuck about her.

The EU/economic/politicial/social situation is still sinking into the mire and getting worse, so I shall also be smiling at all the worthless cunts in the court from the judge on down, your days on the gravy train are numbered, assholes.

Times have to get bad indeed, before a smart and resourceful MGTOW feels even the slightest effects of the storm that is shaking everyone else’s trees.

Nero fiddling while Rome burned, it wasn’t the way the recent history books like to present it, just a man roasting his marshmallows over the flames of the burning society that richly deserved to fall from its own hubris.

My biggest problem in court is to not laugh, no bitches please stop, I can’t take any more of your “punishment”, please let me get back on my knees and earn my way back into your good books, so you can fuck me over again……

… and we are being played out with Dire Straits, Brothers in Arms…  lol

April 27, 2012

inch by eights

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:11 pm

Inch by eight in brass countersunk head was perhaps the commonest brass wood screw made, certainly there were very few things that you could make, from a yacht to a table, that did not involve using them.

Inch by eights used to be bought by the pound, or if you were on the continent by the half kilo.

I just saw a box of them for THIRTY FUCKING FOUR UK POUNDS STERLING, so intrigued I go online and the cheapest I could READILY find were £4.74 excluding 20% VAT and shipping per 100, and of course who knows where they were made, what grade or quality of brass etc.

This free wordpress does not allow the uploading of video, if it did instead of just watching yesterday I would have videoed my lathe running at a very sedate 300 RPM and the very special sound of a nice sharp and well profiled cutting tool skimming the surface of some 2″ diameter aluminium bar in an old fashioned and rigid lathe.

While I was watching it, and sipping my coffee, and I will admit craving a smoke, for it was at such times that I used to smoke… lol… it occurred to me, no wimminz has ever “got” the sound or feel or smell or look or process of a lathe or mill making a nice cut and changing one thing into another.

They just don’t “commune” with it like a man or boy will.

Same with coffee, they just don’t get a good coffee being poured slowly over a full brown cane sugar, or the makings of the same, all the wimminz just want a one button latte machine, they aren’t into the process itself.

While not a religious person, I am quite happy to grab bits of any philosophy that suits me, so one of the things I grabbed from Zen / Buddhism many moons ago was the idea of each day doing at least one thing very slowly, and savouring it.

I could have spun the VFD up and spun the lathe spindle at 3,000 RPM and done the job in a tenth of the time…. in the same way that I could have bought a one button coffee maker instead of my old German do everything manually job, or I could just stick with instant.. lol

Same with smoking, I always used to hand roll, and it is the hand rolling that I miss as much as anything, or maybe that is the old addiction pathways talking, but I did enjoy rolling…

But getting back to the inch by eights, I remember an apprentice in a foreign port (that happened to be where I was living at the time) being sent ashore for a few kilos of inch by eights, and returning with the tale that there were none to be had, and subsequent conniption fit by the shipwright, which included the words “…not fucking possible…” and “…commonest woodscrew on the fucking planet….”

Except fast forwards 20 years and come and live in this city, and I know two places where you can walk in and walk out again with inch by eights, and only because I live here AND come from a trade background… they are not in Google, you either know or you don’t… and most of the time what you know is that the last supplier shut up shop a decade ago.

Same thing for this city goes for non ferrous metals, the last supplier / vendor closed 10 years ago….same thing for car radiator repairs, car paint mixed on demand, I could go on and on.

That old shipwright would never have believed it, that you can go to a City and find it almost impossible to find any inch by eights in brass, and even then a few pounds is their TOTAL stock so good luck asking for seven pounds of screws.

This is but another side effect of the feminazi mangina niggerz and wimminz world we live in where everything male was reviled and derided… I stand in my workshop looking at my old English lathe and milling machine (and other tools) which I converted myself to CNC yonks ago complete with 5 micron glass scales and DRO etc, and wonder if I should sell, after all they are worth more money now than they have ever been and are huge and awkward to move and house, and being realistic just how much actual use do either of these machines actually get?

And then a day like yesterday comes and I listen to some metal cutting, and I don’t even care that I can just walk out and do a job like that on demand.

November 20, 2011

Malice in Wonderland…. the 1%’er club for Men.

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 10:30 am

Going to do some random musings today.

As is my nature, I’m going to do this out-of-order too, on my way back from banging the skank ho all night, I stopped at a Shell garage for a morning cup of coffee and a smoke.

Like most filling stations nowadays, the coffee machine is a franchise, in this case Coffee Republic, a franchise which in this case only started August 2010, and which has just gone into liquidation, so half the machine is empty, only brown sugar (which I like) latte (which I like) and no stirring sticks and only large cups, so I paid a quid for a two quid coffee…. yummy.

But it got me to thinking about the developing economic crash, and let’s face it, for a franchise coffee outlet in a major chain of filling stations to go bust selling a product with as much mark up as coffee, you just know it is down to finance and not per unit sold profit that killed it.

Which brings us back to last night’s skank, and previous stories about the crashing economy changing the skanks attitudes…

This skank is a true single mum skank, first fucked at the age of 13 she says, and lost count of the amount of cock she had had by the age of 16, and now 20 years later it is “pick a number” and make sure it has three digits.

In many ways it is the same old story, she had the education and the opportunities, and she had a 15 year marriage to one guy who she claims she was faithful to (could be true) and who she says is a lovely guy, but just wasn’t interested in sex, so she dumped him, and yes, kept the kids…

So now with 40 knocking on the door her body and looks are falling off a cliff, having reached that stage that women seem to get to where everything physical goes downhill real fast, and her cunt looks like the one above, but about 10 minutes later, hammered to fuck and back, but hey, a cunt is a cunt.

Anyway, the point being that she woke up this morning with bruises on her inner thighs, having herself paid for the motel room (she didn’t feel comfortable asking me back to “her kids home” she said, who knows, I could have been an axe murderer… lmfao) gives me my morning blow job and fuck, and I ask her if she has any regrets, while sipping on a manky motel coffee and smoking my first of the day, and she gives me “that” look and says “No, no regrets…

That” look being that calculating look that the wimminz have, have they done enough to impress me and maybe come to rely on me economically in the impending hard times ahead, or are they just another notch on the bedpost for a player. And at this point I make small and pointless bets with myself about whether or not, and if so how long, before the skank ho texts me at some point in the future.

Meanwhile the young chick mentioned previously in another post, the one who “got it” is in touch, I asked her if she wanted me again that night (not that I was available or within 20 miles of her, being busy as I was with last nights skank) and she said yeah but she has her best friend (female) visiting, so I send a message back “threesome then…. rofl” to which she responds no, because her girlfriend is better looking than she is, so vanity either way, either fishing for a compliment from me about her attractiveness or fishing for some shit about looks don’t matter baby you is de beautiful person yadda yadda, so of course I sent the only reply possible, “is she as dirty and obedient a slut as you? cos that interests me more than looks“… haven’t had a reply yet…lol… that hamster wheel is doing 5,000 rpm

Meanwhile this morning the fugly skank I also mentioned previously with the 8 body but the 1 face, actually I was being generous, 0.1 face, is messaging me asking me if I had a good time last night, she hopes so, and how she woke up with her cunt wet and throbbing for me and yadda yadda yadda.

All three are single mum’s, all three facing the reality that is the impending economic crash, and all three find a guy who no real ties incredibly sexually attractive, because he has no real ties or commitments and therefore could in theory take them on board.

Yeah, I could wax lyrical about how I am incredibly good-looking, which isn’t true, how I am hung like a donkey, which isn’t true, how I have this amazing personality, which isn’t true, and puff my chest up and offer to let you all smell my fingers, but the truth is much, much, much harsher… the truth often is.

The truth is if you google my name, and I always use my real name in PoF etc, I sound like Charles Manson on a bad day, it isn’t true, but that is what you will see and read, the truth is I may be in good shape for a 50+ year old guy, but I am still a 50+ year old guy, the truth is I may not be saddled with any huge debts, but basically I don’t have a pot to piss in, the truth is I may have a pretty good and rounded personality, but wimminz don’t get a look in, the truth is despite all my own failings and shortcomings (not that I feel like a failure or short of anything, just saying, if you were to make a list of my attributes….) I am still by far the best that these three wimminz in question can hope to get, and on some level at least they are aware of this, and they are also aware that the only way to get past the initial screening process is to offer me no holds barred kinky perverted sex, and so they do.

Yet I am again struck by the fact that these skank ho single mums are more in tune with the survival game than most of the general public, and more in tune with survival that the now bust Coffee Republic, with the analogy that the coffee franchise was the female surviving off the environment and micro-ecosystem created by the host male, the filling station itself…. but bear in mind that these skank ho single mums that I fuck are not representative of wimminz as a whole or skank ho single mums as a whole, they are the sub-set that pass through my PoF filters and meet me and fuck, these are the “enlightened” 1%, the canaries in the coalmine.

Back in my biker days, there was the whole “1%’er” thing, which came from a biker party that got out of hand in the states many many years ago, and some self-appointed biker talking head denounces those who fought and fucked up the town as the minority 1% of all bikers, NABALT, not all bikers are like that, and so many bikers who liked to party and had a FTW attitude adopted the 1% label as their own.

I think perhaps the post thermonuclear DV/rape/whatever lost his house / kids / job Man is also in his own way a 1%’er, he is in effect an outlaw, having found himself placed outside the protection of the Law and being used as the victim by the Law, and that is why there is a certain gravitational attraction between a 1% Man like me and the 1% of skank ho wimminz who really can see which way the wind is blowing long-term economically, and how bleak the future could be for them, and how dependent they could be for their very survival upon a suitable host male to parasite off of.

Maybe, like Coffee Republic, even when you find a superb male to associate with, and grab yourself a prime piece of franchise real estate like Shell filling stations, your backroom attitudes and lifestyles and financial situation is so dire that even when presented with a goldmine, you go fuckedcompany.com.

PS.. the skank just texted me…. lmfao….

%d bloggers like this: