Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

September 29, 2013

How times change.

I just met some stupid skank who is going on a solo backpacking trip to Thailand, she is excited but one part of the deal that gets no thought or attention whatsoever is the flight over there.

When I was a baby it was called Siam, and the flight was three days, not so much because of the top speed and range of the piston powered DC-9 and Constellations and Super Connies of the day, (There were deHavilland Comets too, but not enough to run all the services) basically converted wartime bombers, but it was hugely expensive, so certain minimum levels of comfort and relaxation were required, and of course instruments weren’t that good, the flight navigator had to actually navigate, albeit with RDF assistance, so if you were flying London to Singapore it was two overnight stops in hotels.Air_France,_Sud-Est_SE-161_Languedoc

The alternative was going by ship, I did that once too, 28 days journey time.

You could write a letter, par avion, on thin cigarette paper notepaper, often blue, and the envelopes had a red and blue pattern around the edge, and would take a week to arrive.

If it was really urgent you could send a telegram, that should get there in a day or so.

*BIG* businesses with offices around the globe by the late seventies had the Telex, think of it as a 50 baud point to point SMS.

We had one of the new fangled e-lec-tro-nic transistor (as opposed to thermionic valve) radios, it was a good one, it had a whole twelve transistors inside it, it said so on the front, and you could get long wave, medium wave, and short wave, (for the BBC world service) and of course it was all AM amplitude modulation, nobody had heard of frequency modulation.

We got our first TV in time to watch the moon landings, 425 line VHF band with a tuning dial and variable capacitor just like a radio, black and white of course…lol… and you could tell when any of the neighbours cars points and coil ignition systems needed a service…lol

We got a phone then too, you know, in our own house, in the hallway… I can still remember the number, 811, of course if you wanted to ring anyone outside the town you lived in you still had to dial the operator, (“Whitehall 1212” to be connected to scotland yard) as STD standard trunk dialling or direct dialling hadn’t come in yet, (it actually didn’t cover 100% of the UK until the late seventies) hell, the ability to direct dial local numbers without needing an operator to make the circuit was all new…

You could actually navigate by the phone lines, because the cross trees and insulators were always on the same side with respect to London.GlenTay Train wreck 4

When I went to school you got handed a little book of tables, log, sin, cos, tan, etc That and a pencil and a piece of paper was how you did your workings, if you needed to work faster you could use a slide rule, three digit precision pretty much, but in reality that was enough for most real world calculations.

This was all long long long before you actually saw the first pong game in the shops, or the first LED digital watches, or anything else to do with the silicon chip, which was still a pipe dream.

As a boy from the age of 12 onwards I made *many* solo and unaccompanied journeys comprising of a train from wherever I was in the UK to either Reading or London, grab a bus or a cab from there to Heathrow, find my flight, check in, board it and arrive at a destination half way around the world.

By *many* I mean when the then BOAC started their first jet services in the late fifties, even though 99.9% of the routes and flights were still piston & propeller driven, there were a great many Englishmen working abroad in all corners of the Globe, doing what Englishmen did, building the railways and mines and shipyards and so on, pretty much all ex-servicemen, and of course they all had kids, and so it was quite common for those kids to attend school “back home” and fly out for school holidays, depending on how senior (well paid) your folks were and how much they disliked you, you could get flown out once, twice or three times a year, so you could easily do six flights between London and Singapore for example per year… so BOAC brought in a thing to keep all these little shits well behaved called the junior jet club, I think 7 was the lower age limit, and every flight you got 5 minutes in the cockpit in flight and your little book stamped, and you got certificates at 125k, 250k, and 500k miles…. of course it didn’t take long to add that up, and by the time you were 12 you’d dumped all that crap and the stupid “unaccompanied minor” lapel pin that meant the BOAC staff would look out for you…. do you know where you are flying to little boy, would you like a drink, lol

Tickets and all were of course pre-paid and pre-booked, but looking back I used to carry astonishingly little cash, probably fifty bucks in today’s money.

In theory you could make an international phone call, but I personally had never heard of anyone who had done such a thing, and I knew people who owned and ran fucking huge multinational companies, either my dad worked directly for them or I knew their kids…

I could go on and on and on, but, you get the idea.


Perhaps, just perhaps, it is because I come from a time when communication was either face to face, or slooooow, you didn’t expect instant gratification, it could take a week or more for the letter to get there, and a week or more for the reply to get back..

So on the one hand I find the whole modern what the fuuuuuck!!!! I sent the cunt a message three whole fucking minutes ago and I still haven’t had a fucking reply, what the fuuuuuck!!! rather amusing and stupid, on the other hand I do come from a time when each communication was considered valuable, so SOME FUCKING RESPONSE would be nice, not some “lol yeah” either, a fucking response, with content and meaning and information.

In part this is because of the modern obsession with “multitasking”, but of course there ain’t no such animal, all there is is “time slicing” and if you find yourself unable to hold six face to face conversations simultaneously or make six phone calls simultaneously or play six games of chess simultaneously, then it really is no wonder that you fail utterly at using a variety of different methods to;

  1. whatsapp person #1
  2. sms person #2
  3. sms person #3
  4. web/mail/portal person #4
  5. email person #5
  6. kik person #6

all the while checking fuckbook and twatter and so on.

If you chop the time slice for any of those jobs below the minimum required to do that stage of that job properly, then you just added to the noise and detracted from the signal for all the rest of it too.

I see this ALL THE FUCKING TIME, particularly with wimminz, but to be fair not a hell of a lot less with guys, they are operating under information overload and as a result the instant you drop off the mental radar you are forgotten.

It is the same process whether you are waiting for an update to a job in a work email or waiting to her from a skank on a fucking site, you just may give more of a shit or be more annoyed by one or the other, because it matters more to you personally at that moment, but, to the other person involved you are just noise that fell off the radar.

You were lost in the immediacy and urgency of the moment.

It’s nothing personal, you fell off her radar, someone else stayed on and got their balls drained.

It’s nothing personal, in fact, that is exactly it, the time slices are cut so thin there is no room left for anything personal, and so the obsession everyone has is with what they do not have, not what they do have.

Apart from an empty belly, I have yet to meet a dog, or any other animal come to that, who spends any time at all worrying about what they do not have, and they are better for it.

I could sit here and make no changes of any material kind whatsoever to my life, and start worrying about what I do not have, including all the hundreds of wimminz that have not sent me meaningful personal communications, and ruin my life by doing so, because I would end up unhappy with it.

Or, I can sit here and be a dog, actually I have everything I fucking need, hell, I have things that were beyond any science fiction to the little boy I once was, and be extremely happy and content with life.

Sure, there are things I do not have, but the lack of them does not detract from what I do have.

The bitch who started this thread off, her “backpacking holiday” will be centred around her fucking iphone, and taking selfies, and updating her fuckbook page, and roaming charges and wifi hotspots and mains charging adapters, and her life is sliced into time slots so thin she might as well have stayed at home and joined Second Life, because lets face it, her first and only real life is passing her by in multi-tasked slices too small to achieve anything of merit.


September 12, 2013

It hurts, being a soldier, behind enemy lines.

In the postbag, stuff from guys toughing it out and swallowing red pills like ludes at a dead concert, yeah we know we are doing the right thing for our own survival, but why does it hurt so much?

In brief, it hurts because you are down behind enemy lines, on your own, it sucks, but it is better than being in the trenches outside Damascus.

It hurts, because not only the ones you correctly identified as your enemies are out to get you, but also those you formerly incorrectly identified as allies and colleagues.

It hurts, because it is lonely, you don’t have the faux comradeship and faux companionship you had before.

It hurts, because it is supposed to….

As for Damascus itself….

Well, in my day job, I turn up on site, after a bunch or resellers of resellers of resellers have resold a product, and outsourced parts of that product to four different suppliers at the end of four different reseller chains, of which I am but one.

The customer, the site, it is a major high street brand with over a thousand outlets in mainland England alone, you know the name, hell, you’ve probably spent money there yourself.

Fact is I could pull a couple of other equally large or larger jobs out of last weeks diary, the only reason I don’t is I couldn’t give *any* clues about who they are or what they do, or you would immediately know exactly who they were, but, the story is *exactly* the same.

So 5 site visits in a row to 5 different sites, and in every one, I cannot do the job I was there to do, and the reason I cannot do it is not;

  • that someone else forgot to tell anyone to do x
  • that someone wasn’t told by someone else to do x
  • that x itself wasn’t documented and planned up the wazoo

you get the picture.

No, the problem in every case is that everyone prior to me in the process has played their part, but the process itself is specifically designed so that no one person has any knowledge or interest in what those following on are supposed to do.

So one guy will come alone and install a new cabinet over there next to the spare power sockets, and another guy will come along and install the dsl/pstn lines over there next to the existing phone sockets, and the distance between the two “there’s” exceeds the length of the RJ11 cable supplied to connect the two together.

And nobody has done anything wrong, and everyone, even me, who doesn’t do the job he turned up to do, can get his paperwork signed, and everyone goes home happy, except the customer.

When things *do* work out, it isn’t because everyone is working to IS0/BS/six sigma or any of that crap, or because everyone is a certified nintendo developer, or because the whole project is managed and documented so well.

It is because there are enough people in the system like me, with a spread of knowledge and experience much broader than my job description calls for, who can go the extra mile in some cases, and use their fucking brain in others, so that the next guy in the chain can do his bit and forge another link in the chain.

Not *because* of the system, but *despite* the system.

If you think the fields of politics or economics or war are any different, you’re in for a rude surprise…. especially if you find yourself in a trench outside Damascus.

So, enough time has passed I can tell you a true story.

Anyone who has been in the armed forces knows it moves on bullshit paperwork, just like the jobs I describe above, with the added pleasure of you yourself being a thing with a number, not an intelligent free agent like I am at work.

So, let’s call him Pete.

Pete is an army driver, he is given orders and papers, go to the motor pool, draw a truck and 30,000 litre trailer, go here and fill the truck with diesel, then go here and deliver that 30,000 litres of diesel, then bring the truck and trailer back.

So, all goes well until Pete gets to his destination with 30k litres of diesel, and he is told we got no room, the bunkers are full, go away.

Pete goes back to the fuel depot, told to go way, no paperwork for no 30k litre delivery.

Pete goes back to his base and the motor pool, told to go away, no paperwork for a truck and FULL 30k tanker trailer.

Pete goes to a pub down the road to ponder his dilemma, everyone has been scrupulous in doing their job, nobody has done anything wrong, in fact to fix this problem, someone would have to exceed their authority and do something wrong.

Pete sinks a couple more beers, pondering all this, and a friendly local farmer offer to solve his problem, he will buy the 30k litres of diesel, at a discounted price, of course.

Pete sells the farmer the diesel, returns to base with an empty truck, waved straight through, job done, paperwork filled, away you go brother.

Of course, sooner or later the missing 30k litres was flagged and Pete got dishonourably discharged, which in reality didn’t bother him a bit, saved him 5 more years in the green.

Ok, we all know Pete did the wrong thing, but the situation he found himself in was not one of his own making, and if he hadn’t had that exact same sort of shit every other day of his life, he might have done the right thing that day.


But things become slightly more likely to escalate out of control in totally unplanned directions that have no stop, pause or rewind buttons, when you are playing around in potential war zones.

And if excuse like “but I did everything my job sheet said, and I got it signed off” or “but I was unable through the actions of someone else to complete my job sheet, but it clearly wasn’t my fault, so I got it signed off” become ever so slightly more annoying when we are not talking about a customer whose site is hard down with no net connection, but when we are talking about a village and 5,000 inhabitants turned into grit and brown paint.

So, brothers, it may be unpleasant to find yourself down alone behind enemy lines, but it will get several orders of magnitude more unpleasant if you are dumb enough to stick your head up outta your foxhole and ask where the pussy has gone.


December 19, 2012

Security theater vs real security.

A quote from a comment made by 8oxer to the last article

When I would talk to the hardcore MGTOW brothers, back in the day, I got the business constantly. It is as though some people believe that a redpill life is equivalent to joining a monastery, never having sex nor anything to do with wimminz again, and anyone who does not share their vow of celibacy is deluded, a fool, or a mangina white knight dog who is not true to the brotherhood. Such polar thinking does nothing to me. With that sort of black/white thinking one may as well just drop out completely, go live in the woods as a hermit, cut off his nose to spite his face, cut off his cock right after, and never talk to anyone again.

There is no shortage of people such as Bruce Perens who talk about security theatre, screening all passengers at London Heathrow airport for box cutters / stanley knives to prevent another “raghead muslim terrorist atrocity” is no more than security theatre, not real security, because Heathrow airport is only a couple of miles from several large indigenous raghead muslim enclaves, where lo and behold most of the airport and aircraft cleaning staff are hired from, at low wages, and they aren’t routinely screened and they could leave box cutters and anything else hidden on an aircraft for an accomplice “passenger” to find and exploit.

The airport body scanners are therefore no more than theatre, and jobs for the boys of course.

It may make ya feel safer, but it doesn’t actually make you one iota safer in fact.

Which brings us to 8oxer’s comment, dropping out completely, living in the woods as a hermit, and cutting off your nose and your cock may make ya feel safer from the tentacles of the feminazi state, but it don’t actually make you one iota safer.

If anything, it makes you MORE at risk, because your false sense of security will cause you to dismiss shit that would otherwise trigger an alert in you, after all, all the other passengers were screened JUST LIKE YOU, so they can’t have gotten anything on the plane…. right?… right??

Unbeknownst to you, some skank ho who doesn’t even know you exist, in need of an explanation for staying out late and having a threesome, tells her darling beta male she was raped by some freaky hermit guy as she was waiting for a bus down by the woods.

When the po-lice find your hermit hideout, you are going down for 15 years for a rape you didn’t commit, what’s that? No penis? Well clearly you’re nuts and used a sex toy to compensate, after all we can’t expect the poor rape victim to check for a real penis vs a fake one while you hold a knife to her throat etc… have an extra 10 years for being nuts…

The yanks just pulled a guy out from halfway around the world, for allegedly not paying alimony to a wimminz, which is why I said yesterday;

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

All I can do is indulge in security theatre, which basically is sleepwalking into an even more vulnerable state, or I can do something to address my security, which is what this blog has always been about, and why those links are always there on the right.

As 8oxer has seen, you have to differentiate between a dogma and a strategy.

I happen to like fucking, which makes me one of the fortunate ones because I can combine my need to empty my balls into some slut with a constant search for the “camouflage jane” of the day, week, month or year, all of which makes me safer than the hermit in the woods, or the guy who runs away half way around the planet…

A dogma is lazy, I followed instructions and went to the woods and built a shack, job done, I am now safe from wimminz.

A strategy is dynamic, that shit I did last week with jane47 I need to do again this week with jane47, fresh, not just cookie cutter.

Fuck, I have to breathe, not like I didn’t breathe yesterday, or eat yesterday, or take a shit yesterday, or exercise yesterday, or sleep / rest yesterday, the stuff I talk about here, smartphone and archiving everything to the cloud, it’s just more of the same man, shit you have to do every fucking day until the day you die in order to live / survive.

If you’re a yank, you’ve probably been “protected” from having to read this.

Arguably it is a moot point whether kids or dogs in afdiggastan most need to fear death from the skies with no warning from Brandon Bryant’s replacement killers, the only thing not up for discussion is whether the kids and dogs in afdiggastan are paranoid, the x-box killers ARE out to fucking kill them… HEAD SHOT…. collateral damage… re spawning in 3…2…1…

If you are a kid or a dog in afdiggastan, or a man in the western world, there is no re-spawning, no saved games, no pause button, no exit button, you may just be collateral damage and virtual shit to some other wimminz or niggerz, not an actual intended target, but it makes no odds, the shit is still 100% real to you, and your belief in security theatre over actual security strategy is only going to contribute greatly to your grave situation.

Like I said above, I’m lucky, I like cunt, could be a lot worse, I could be a fag like Mr Donovan who would presumably find courting a wimminz for camouflage repulsive, or a 30’s Hollywood actor, needing a sham marriage to a wimminz for camouflage… just as the drones in afdiggastan kill kids and dogs as easily as crazed raghead terr’rists, the feminazi drones in western society fuck up the lives of fags and hermits and negroes as easy as white heterosexual males….


Bryant saw a flash on the screen: the explosion. Parts of the building collapsed. The child had disappeared. Bryant had a sick feeling in his stomach. “Did we just kill a kid?” he asked the man sitting next to him. “Yeah, I guess that was a kid,” the pilot replied. “Was that a kid?” they wrote into a chat window on the monitor. Then, someone they didn’t know answered, someone sitting in a military command center somewhere in the world who had observed their attack. “No. That was a dog,” the person wrote. They reviewed the scene on video. A dog on two legs?


August 12, 2012

True Love

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:06 am

Had a message from a commenter, regarding the latest “we must support the wimminz” thread over at the spearhead, which copied and pasted a comment from Andie (a wimminz) who sez;

I agree that women must take on other women. We must. But its scary. They can do a lot to ruin our lives.

We cannot do this without men. If you do not back us, we are lost.

Isn’t that what Price is saying?

Well, I’m reminded of an old french guy I met on my travels many moons ago.

We were doing the breton thing, house red 50/50 with a carafe of water, smoking, nibbles, shooting the shit, watching the world walk by.

He’s sat at the table outside the bar with his compatriots, looking at the German tourists, and muttering loud imprecations to “le boche” because, you see, he was part of the resistance during the war.

One day a frenchman and his wife were walking by, this old chap did his le boche routine, and the frenchman said something to him, whereupon he went fucking ballistic at the frenchman and his wife…. rapid fire gallic tirade that started out “en coulet tu merde…” which is why I picked up on it… my schoolboy french went that far at least.. lol

Afterwards, I asked what the fuck that was all about, so he told me;

During the war, that fucker was full of apologies for why he couldn’t actually do anything about the germans, it was always too dangerous, so we in the resistance died one by one, then one night the germans pull out and late the next morning the allies roll into the village, we in the resistance are hiding out in the fields and watching from a distance, because, you know, you don’t trust anything after a while, maybe the germans will push back, maybe the luftwaffe will come in, maybe they aren’t actually allies and it is a trap, so what do we see, THAT fucker leading the victory parade and acting like a little general who kept the germans from destroying our village.

So we talked some more, he tells me that after the war that fucker was mayor three times, and of course all the women who fucked the germans while their own men died voted for him, well, they had a common history to rewrite, was how he put it.

You see..” he tells me “.. your generation must remember, these types, when they wanted something it is always we cannot do this without you or we are lost, and whenever we wanted something it is always we cannot do this for you or we are lost, and whenever we say fuck it we do it ourselves anyway, they are we cannot have you do this or we are lost

So when I get sent the above quoted comment from a wimminz on the spearhead, it immediately triggered the memory of the old gaul and that summer forty years after the war, and it still being s fresh as yesterday to that old man.

When that old man was out in the rain and cold and mud sabotaging train tracks and phone lines fighting the war, the future mayor was ticked up in a warm bed sound asleep, after having explained how actually fighting was too risky and inconvenient, until liberation day, and then, well, why if it was not for them…..

Forty years later he muttered about le boche, but they were after all the enemy, and while he may not have respected them, he knew what they were, mainly boys like him, miles from home and following orders, but he did not look at any of them and think I wish I had killed you 40 years ago, however that is exactly how he thought of the ex mayor, sure, he was bretagne and on the same side and all that, but he exemplified everything about la belle France that the old man was NOT fucking fighting for.

The old man will be long dead now, and while I did indeed forget for a while, I have eventually done what he asked me to do, and remember in this generation the shit he had to to eat in his, too little too late, but what the fuck, better late than never, so salut Arnau.

That old mayor, he was the embodiment of what Napoleon was railing against when he called England a nation of shopkeepers, everything is for sale, and the price is always negotiable, no offer so low and insulting you get thrown out of the store for life.

This is what everyone forgets about Europe, we all white boys in a homogenous melting pot, except we aren’t, there are subspecies that cross national boundaries, and this was why, the REAL reason why, periodically everyone in Europe turn on the jews, because of the tendency to never treat an offer as so low and insulting you get thrown out of the shop for life, there is always room for negotiation.

There is another group, like old Arnault, one day you’ll insult them too far and they throw you out of the shop for life, line in the sand, fuck it, I ain’t running no more.

You want to actually understand what is going in in the PIIGS and else where WRT the EU economy, you’ll never make any sense of it unless you realize that the important groups are not this political party or that economic group, but the much older sub-species that are not on racial lines so much a hardwired genetic behaviour lines, those who no matter what the situation will try and negotiate and way out, and those who will draw a line in the sand and say fuck it, ain’t running no more.

Take any GEOGRAPHIC location you like, from a whole country to a small village like Arnau’s, you’ll get that spread of attitudes, and people like the mayor, who will genuinely believe that overall their attitudes and collaboration saved lives in the village, and the Arnau’s. who will agree that lives in the village were saved, just the wrong ones, and the wrong ones were sacrificed to save them.

Wimminz like Andie wearing with pride the badge that says they are a loving and devoted wife and mother version 1.0, and an ardent believer in and supporter of the MRM, ‘cept, you know, it’s nasty and scary out there in the fields in the rain in the cold and dark, they have a use.

They are a litmus test.

Everyone who does NOT tell them to GTFO in no uncertain terms is the enemy…. sure, 30 years time Andie may end up mayor, she’ll survive, and she’ll make sure some other birds of the same feather do too, but only by collaborating and selling out the hawks.

It is, after all, the passive’s strategy to passing on their DNA in the face of stronger competition.

Andie says I agree that women must take on other women. We must. But its scary. They can do a lot to ruin our lives.We cannot do this without men. If you do not back us, we are lost (note the inclusive language, there ain’t no WE, bitch) which is really just a variation on Let’s you and him fight, and I’ll fuck the winner

August 1, 2012

It only takes a minute girl

for a story about a wimminz being unspeakably evil to be moved off the news pages completely, while stories of evil men languish on side bars and features for days…


Up for less tha 24 hours, and mirabile dictu, yet again a story that comments are not enabled for..

So the bitch leaves a 1 year old and a 3 year old alone in a bath to go downstairs to smoke a spliff and talk to neighbours about being wasted on voddy, screams up at her screaming 3 year old to play with the shower to stop being bored, and just about an hour later decides to go back in the house to probably in reality get another spliff, and discovers the bath is full and the 1 year old is dead… whereupon she tries to blame the 3 year old for deliberately killing his 1 year old sibling.

So, she eventually gets convicted of manslaughter, it THEN comes out that she also walked away from her part in a murder 6 years ago, and basically walked cos she was born with a cunt, so this time she gets 45 months, which means she will do 22, less than two years, in cushy wimminz prisons at that, and the surviving 3 year old will live with granny, who is, you guessed it, also a slut skank ho single mommy…

Pure coincidence that bad press for team cunt gets buried quickly and always has problems with comments working/being enabled… and of course throughout these stories always a TOTAL LACK OF ANY COMMENT OF ANY KIND regarding how the psycho slut managed to GET sole custody of the kids, or mention of where daddy is or how he and the paternal family feels about it all….

Yanks won’t know this FIRST HAND, because of the geography, but here in Europe we are a short car ride away from places that has a similar what really happens / what gets reported in the news, and how, thing going down, for example East Germany, where everyone knew that ALL the “news” was just propaganda, all the time, and where everyone also knew that at least 1 in 20 people were a Stasi informant, and everything but everything was about committees and consensus and perceptions and image, and you could, if you were a very good boy and hard worker, go out and buy a papier mache Trabant auto…

You probably can’t go anywhere in Europe now and be 50 miles from someone who lived through that, and they will all tell you pretty much the same shit, nobody believed a fucking word anyone in authority or anyone in the press said, sure, “lip service” was paid, long live gotham city, but nobody actually fucking felt that way for an instant, and so year on year living standard actually went DOWN in real terms.

The disparity between the “have’s” in the west and the “have nots” in the east was STAGGERING, especially for those of the west who crossed the border, 20 smokes could and did buy you a whore for the night…. 4 of us booked into a hotel in Poland, eat a massive meal, drank like fish, and partied down with some sluts, the bill the next day worked out at 10 UK Pounds Sterling each the next day come checkout, I think that included the sluts…

There were jokes that at the time seemed quite funny, what’s the definition of confusion, father’s day in Dresden….

Little did we realise it was all just a foretaste of life in the west to come…

The difference, and there is one notable difference between then and now, is IT…. back then I met some guys setting up the first ever Polish yachting magazine, just some young rich polish guys doing their thing and using presses in germany and sending rolls of film and stories by UPS from wherever they were to a german pole who would do the typesetting and get a print run of 10,000 and on with next month’s edition… you could only do that shit in the days before the net really took off as it has today.

Today I can sit in the middle of a field with a thinkpad (which I can charge off a car cigar lighter or any mains voltage or frequency) and wifi hotspot a smartphone and publish to my website anywhere on the planet, hell, there is a wordpress plugin for android smartphones, I could (and sometime have) post stories to a blog such as this with nothing more than a smartphone, which can be smuggled ANYWHERE.

SO nowadays we could still be going into a place where 1 in 20 are Stasi informants, and also where 1 in 20 have a blog, which brings us to another issue… how do you select your sources..

Let’s take a look at Fathers4Justice, specifically Richard’s story, now frankly speaking, when MY own FRA / child custody battle in secret family courts came out of the blue, I went online and did research, and 99% of what I read was like Richard’s story on F4J, to put it bluntly, a lot of sanitised politically correct bollocks, carefully phrased to avoid alienating the very cunts who are the enemies of fathers in the first fucking place…. no prizes for guessing why I started writing THIS shit, because THIS shit is the sort of thing I NEEDED to see and be aware of….

There IS no Justice, just US…. to quote a tee shirt I owned many years ago.

Nor is there ever going to BE any justice, not in the present regime, nor will there be any in the NEXT fucking regime, as long as it has troughs where the usual suspects can feed off the State nipple.

F4J cannot work, because it is trying to work with the professional child abusers in the system, nor is a Basque/ETA style terrorist campaign going to work, because most go to prison and after 20 years the guys at the top sell out to the establishment, like the IRA, so the only thing that works is stop participating in and financially supporting the fucking system that wants to fuck you, passive disobedience Ghandi style if you want to be above the radar (the martyr’s option), passive disobedience MGTOW/ghost style if you want to be below the radar (the survivors option)

There aren’t any other options, life just ain’t fair, to win, first you have to survive and maintain your ability to act and adapt so you can survive some more… fair doesn’t come into it.

The skank ho in the daily fail story above is an example of a skank ho who hasn’t seen the writing on the wall and still thinks she can play the precious princess card as long as she has a cunt and is fuckable, but for every one of her, there are others, wimminz her age and younger, who have been thrown on the scrapheap and used as cannon fodder, exactly like men, but who because they ARE wimminz and so naturally not as endowed with the survival gene, get a much rougher time of it.

I can introduce you to skank ho sluts barely out of their teens, who fucking HATE their mothers, and to a lesser extent their fathers for not standing up to their mothers and being MEN, they will tell you mummy knows the score and doesn’t give a fuck, and daddy, well daddy is in denial, he knows but can’t admit it to himself, because then he would have to act, and he is too scared to do that shit because it is life changing, and anyway, what’s in it for him?, He’s already been robbed of his little girl…. she is now a whore / porn slut / burnout.

If you think it is tough for a man / father to pick him self up, dust him self off, and get on with life, spare a thought for these young girls who get it… they don’t have the years of life experience behind them, but they do have porntube videos of them doing 5 guys at once for money, and now they can quit all drugs and alcohol and other anaesthetics to life, and try to rebuild something in a world slowly going to hell in a handcart…. and if you talk to them you notice a funny thing… some of them are smart, smart enough to hide how smart they are from the world, and their social circle, and go into survival mode, just like a man.

Now, I am not saying NAWALT about these young sluts, but it would be a mistake to just lump all wimminz into one homogenous lump of misandry, some of them get it, and some of them, can make (literal) strange bedfellows in adversity… in the west conditions are right, and getting “righter”, to bring about again the olden way in which young wimminz sought out much older men to be their masters and owners.

Do, for fuck’s sake, make sure the slut is at least 21 years of age before you fuck them, in the UK the age of consent is 16, unless there can be shown that the man has some position of authority (eg a teacher or step dad) over them, in which case it is 18, and it is called grooming, and even if you fuck them at 18 but have known them since they were 17 and three quarters, it will still be called grooming, so no contact unless they are 21, which by any standard anywhere in the world is a legal adult, do have all that good shit in the cloud archived forever, and do not ever sink into love or equals or any other that crap, they want a master, an owner, someone who can tell them what to do and teach them shit (so you see why this is a slam dunk for “grooming” if they are under 21, EVEN IF SHE MADE ALL THE RUNNING) and above all be that manly father figure that they never had…. and don’t kid yourself that they won’t grow out of it or that you will not be dying alone….. this is about making hay while the fucking sun shines…. survival does not have to be grim, don’t be like Richard in the F4J story, be a MAN and enjoy the ride like the guy sat on the bomb in Dr Strangelove.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, because I am the coldest most calculating survivalist bastard in the whole fucking valley… and that makes me the most alpha, teen cunt magnet you ever saw… lol

January 2, 2012

The Death of Apprenticeship.

Now and again in my old “day job“, which is to say my TRADE, which is to say TIME SERVED APPRENTICESHIP, I used to come across situations where I ran up against the fact that I was clearly one of the very last people to get anything even remotely resembling a PROPER old fashioned apprenticeship.

I didn’t have a PROPER old fashioned apprenticeship, my father did, his parents had to pay his “employer” to allow him to go to work every week for the first 4 years, because until then he was a drain on the company, and after 4 years he was good enough to earn them money, and boy let me tell you in his day if you laughed at your master for making a trivial mistake, your master would punch you in the mouth, and unless you wanted your apprenticeship to end then and there, you took it…

My own apprenticeship was not quite that tough, I didn’t actually have to pay for permission to go to work, though I did get paid sweet fuck all, and did have to take whatever was dished out.

Turns out, in later life, I realise that I had some other apprenticeships too, even though I didn’t realise them at the time…

Turns out growing up a boy in a traditional family was one hell of an apprenticeship in how to be a father and a parent.

Turns out growing up generally was an apprenticeship for being a Man, for being a Husband, for being a breadwinner, a lover, a protector, a provider, and another cog in the machinery that is civilization.

Turns out, many of those “skills” are as in demand nowadays as buggy whip making.

Turns out, that whole process of learning shit did not so much teach me about the shit in each particular subject, but more generally it taught me HOW TO LEARN.

Turns out, I learned, late maybe, but well… AWALT, fuck yeah.

Turns out, as I look around, the REASON that AWALT, the reason that “the youth of today“, the reason that “bankers today“, the reason that “industrialists today” etc etc etc are all useless fucking cunts, is that none of them had much in the way of these various apprenticeships while growing up.

Whatever innate talent I had for engineering, plus whatever exposure I had to training, it was like the christian parable of the seed that fell on fertile soil vs the seed that fell on stony ground.

A modern kid raised in a single skank ho mummy household is the “stony ground” in the parable, the stony ground specifically being that kid just not getting all those other apprenticeships as it grows up, not getting the “Kid growing up with mummy and daddy“, not getting the “mummy home maker, daddy world shaper“, not getting the “this is your home, where you are always safe and secure from the world” etc etc

It’s like learning languages, you cannot learn latin or greek or french or spanish or german, without also learning more about english.

Just as there are no longer any engineering apprenticeships available, no matter how talented or enthusiastic you may be, there are also essentially no more father / husband / man / mother / wife / woman / citizen / etc apprenticeships.

There is the feral skank ho slut and the feral skank cock on legs, we have reduced society to the level of rutting animals, and all those who possess the ability and experience to train a new generation of apprentices have been told, in no uncertain terms, like myself, to fuck off.

And we as men have listened.

My (male) kids only possible light on the horizon for anything even approaching an apprenticeship in being a human being is to join the fucking Army, and if that isn’t as fucked up as anything can get you don’t know your history.

The thing that should absolutely literally scare every western adult citizen out there into literally shitting themselves with fear is this simple fact;

I am in my 50’s, and I am the absolute last of those who can take on apprentices, whether it be studying engineering or IT or being a parent or being a son or daughter in a secure and loving family, and when I say I am the absolute last to be honest I am borderline…. really you should be looking at someone 55 or older…

But since this is my blog I will talk about me and my perspective, I am in my early 50’s, and I am the last ones who can take on apprentices simply because nobody younger has the experience / knowledge / ability.

But, why the fuck should I?

What is in it for me?

Nothing any feminazi skank ho can offer me will tempt me.

In another 15 years, maybe only 10 years, I will be too old to take on apprentices, in any of the above fields, and then it is game over….. all those skills are lost, and will have to be re-discovered, which is anything but trivial, quite the opposite actually, and then where the fuck will society be, where single psycho skank ho mummy raising feral kids who are the very definition of “stony ground” are the fucking norm, when that is all there is….

Who will keep the lights burning? Who will keep the bytes churning? Who will keep the potable water flowing?

It won’t be my problem…  maybe those whose problem it is can throw another skank ho on the pyre to keep themselves warm.

September 25, 2011

What wimminz want, part 957…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 1:02 pm

I have mentioned the subject of wimminz’ changing wish list as the economic turmoil / slo-mo train wreck trundles down the tracks towards the failed bridge.

I have also mentioned on occasion the apparently non-MRA links on the links page.

Obviously is is both an easy and cheap shot to compare the politico/bankers ongoing delusions with the generality of wimminz deluded attitudes to the world, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it is a wasted shot…

Whereas before I commented on Wimminz internet dating showing signs of desperation and changing requirements as the imminence of an economic crash impinges upon their castles built in the sky, in the weeks since the change has become quite blatantly evident.

Not least of which because of the hysteria driven and manic levels of denial expressed by many of these wimminz as to their status and needs, eg buyers market or sellers market, to give you an example;

Wimminz “I want US$4,000,000 for this priceless cunt”

Me “Grow up”

Wimminz “OK, here, take it, it’s yours, for free, but since I am giving it to you freely please look after it and care for it”

It is this instant and total capitulation that is new, wimminz are slightly ahead of the politicos and bankers in realising that in actual fact no fucker trusts them any more, not even a little bit, and the trust is so badly broken that there is nothing they can do to get it back.

I’m reminded of friends and relatives who were on the Burma Railway and shit like that as Japanese prisoners of war, even 25 and 30 years later they would not have a Japanese product in the house, even if that meant forgoing a beautiful crisp trinitron tube 1981 Sony for the hallucinogenic viewed through oil on water wonder that is the old 1958 Bush set.

Basically their distrust was sown so deep and learned so well that it could never be expunged, only the next generation who never went through those experiences would buy nippon stuff…. of course as a corollary around this time the Japanese signs said things like “JVC NiViCo” which was short for “Nipponese Victory Company” (and substitute Japanese for Nipponese to get JVC)

I think that again the wimminz are more sensitive than most to market changes, certainly more sensitive than the politicos and bankers and corporate greed types who all are quite dissociated from the world of the man on the street, I think the wimminz have sensed the coming shit storm, both economic and social, where instead of Jap POW total exclusion till the grave distrust and rejection of all things Jap, more and more men are approaching the total exclusion till the grave distrust of anything and everything feminazi or female equality or manumission.

Trying to be anything even remotely feminist will be akin to trying to sell Volkswagens in England in 1950, a recipe to get a bloody good hiding, no sympathy, and being run out of town. (the first UK VW dealer started in 1953 in Sheffield)

Certainly the wimminz adverts all have shifted from saying that all their ex’s are bastards, to saying that they get on well with “the” ex, they have shifted from saying how wonderful and independent they are as wimminz, to saying they just want a good and true man to love and care for, they have shifted from ball busting lick my cunt you wimp shit to on my knees willing to be master’s sex toy and servant, they have shifted from want to be wined and dined for a first date to willing to meet for a coffee, will buy, and they have shifted from obese is beautiful and you will worship my fat sweaty lardy ass you limp dick bastard to not in as good shape as I should be but working on it and will get there and stay there for my man.

There is also an active shift in 30-35 age wimminz actively seeking out 50 year old guys like me, specifically for our worldly experience and knowledge, to guide them through the troubled times ahead, while the late 40’s are basically crapping themselves… nothing to offer and outcompeted by the 30’s wimminz and no sign things are going to get anything but worse, no wimminz over 49 exist on internet dating sites by the way, they all stop the clock at 49…lol

“First dates” have also changed, with probably only 5% of wimminz now prepared to call my bluff and defy my stated preference that they turn up wearing a skirt and no panties, nota bene to me First Date is the face to face meet where they buy me a coffee and then put out sexually, if they are attractive enough in the flesh to fuck.

I think these wimminz are displaying a lot of animal smarts and cunning, because the economic news is bad, and looking to get a lot worse quite soon, with the wheels falling off the wagon, and the pampered and empowered lives they have all led about to come to a crashing end with all the sudden impact of a bank collapse and market foreclosure….

I was talking to a skank last night who was basically admitting her dim financial future, state funded wimminz mcjob, house on interest only mortgage, car on HP, but she was trying to tell me she will be ok because he is on a fixed rate mortgage until 2016 with a small to medium sized regional shit & shitshires bank that is a byword even in the banking industry for being broke, so it was with great delight that I pointed out to her that the instant her bank goes titsup fuckedcompany dot com, and its assets are bought for one nominal pound sterling by one of the big banks, her fixed term fixed rate interest only contract becomes void, and the new owner of her paper can say “base rate +7.5%” and there is sweet fuck all she can do about it, legally or otherwise, and it isn’t even like the States where you can throw the keys at the bank and go live in a tent, that debt remains with you.

Quite apart from her devotion to duty in being a complete slut and whore and draining my balls last night, and simultaneous coffee, smoke and blow job in bed for a wake up, she stated over toast how she would have no problem if a real man like me wanted to park his motorcycles in the conservatory, or get a skip to empty all her shit out of the garage and use it “as one of those men’s sheds things

The smarter and more sensitive and cunning wimminz are sensing a change in the prevailing weather coming, and they are rightly scared by the consequences for themselves and all wimminz… good hunting.

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