Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

January 2, 2014

Here comes the mirror man…

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:54 am

It’s one of the truisms of the men’s world nowadays that whenever a guy describes his story with the psycho ex in great detail, out of the woodwork come a bunch of other guys who are all OMFG, I feel like you have been spying on my with concealed cameras in my home for the past seven years, because you just described EXACTLY what I had…

Yeah, wimminz all be unique little snowflakes… not.

So sooner or later you realise the wimminz play-book has only a limited number of tactics in it, and you can soon learn them all, and then spot them all.

The guy feeling like he is all WTF I don’t understand what is going on there must be something but she won’t tell me what and I do not UNDERSTAND this because literally one minute it was fucking great and next thing I know for no reason that I can see or discern it’s like I don’t exist… bwaaa…

.. is one of them.

You have all felt it and been there.

It is quite excusable, the FIRST time you experience it first hand, to give a fuck, and to want to know what is wrong and what you can do to fix whatever it is, because you have no fucking clue… this is after all a man’s nature, to fix things and understand things.

It’s not like she has told you you are through and go FOAD, so you know where you stand.

Giving that fuck is however extremely dangerous, it can and does quite easily lead to escalating drama and consequences down the line, life changing ones for you, possibly even life ending… certainly false accusations and the abduction of any children you have with her, this shit is really only a matter of when, not if.

Not giving the fuck is what happens when you learn it is just play #x in the wimminz play-book.


Men being men, they still want to understand, so here is your explanation.

To a guy, you can introduce the concept of a “sandbox“, a figurative word to describe a situation where you have a thing going on in life, and that thing, like the sand in a kid’s sandbox, is kept contained and constrained within its strictly defined boundaries, so as not to contaminate everything else.

Tell him to sandbox his work, or his drinking, or whatever, and gets it and is fine with that.

Try to introduce this concept to a wimminz, and the first thing you get is wonder, and then their heads assplode and bits of hamster wheel and toilet roll go flying everywhere, because they can never actually grasp the idea of having one thing that is kept entirely separate from the rest of their lives.

Proper masculine men *can* make great engineers and lawyers and coders and so on, because of this, for the duration of the exercise they can set aside what they ACTUALLY know, and pretend to work with only what is inside the sandbox knowledge.

I personally know of several instances of chains of small groups of people that were specifically set up to reverse engineer a patented product and come up with something that did the same job but that was patent free, that all failed spectacularly because one wimminz or one wimminz and her beta niggerz in the teams failed at sand-boxing, and the end product was a litigation nightmare.

I knew a guy once, years ago, he was a truly great liar, not because he could convince anyone that his lies were truth, but because every time you picked a hole in one of his lies, he just told another lie to fill it, and he could keep this shit up for hours, so long you forgot the original premise and even the will to live.

Contrast this with a wimminz, who will quite quickly just lose it and start shouting at you for not believing her, and then going silent and not answering any new questions, or giving the same answers as she gave already.

Wimminz can’t sandbox, and they know this, instinctively.

So, to get back to the thing that started all this, some poor bastard stood there in confusion and going all WTF???!!!??? And if he is unlucky giving a fuck, and if he is experienced enough at the wimminz play-book not giving a fuck.

If I steal 5 bucks from your wallet, I *know* I stole 5 bucks from your wallet, I cannot remove that knowledge from my head, and so I cannot perfectly mimic the guy stood next to me, who did not steal 5 bucks from your wallet, doesn’t know fuck all about 5 bucks, or your wallet, and doesn’t much give a fuck either way, as long as nobody is pointing the finger at him.

I, being the one who knows he stole your 5 bucks, am anxious to avoid any probing questioning, and specifically any further answers that might arise out of my answers to those questions, the guy next to me, he doesn’t give a fuck.

The wimminz, knowing instinctively that she cannot sandbox, acts like the guy who stole 5 bucks, they will avoid the potentially unpleasant and embarrassing situation, and all the questions that arise.

They cannot sandbox, so they are not going anywhere near letting the guy know WTF was going on with regards to him, because they know that will open the door to other stuff, stuff that they do NOT want to discuss with him, or have him know, or have him question her about.

Now, I am not saying that this necessarily tells you whatever it was that was her real reason, specifically, so you can’t take this and say OK, this is proof she is fucking some other guy, that isn’t what it is at all, it could just as easily, and in fact is more likely, to be the case that whatever she was or is doing now, it is incompatible with and mutually exclusive to, something that she previously told you about herself.

That *might* be that she is fucking some other guy, or it might be that she works checkout at walmart and doesn’t sell real estate like she claimed, or the dead husband who was going to babysit the wombturds so she could come see you ain’t dead, he just had to work extra, and the imaginary babysitter of course couldn’t cover, or it may even be something a simple that there is something about herself being a fuckup that she doesn’t like, and there is no way to answer your questions without exposing that flaw to you.

The point YOU need to get as a guy, is that this play-book move ALWAYS has the same motive behind it for her, and that is keeping you in the dark about something.

It is more important to her that you do not know X,
than it is important to her to spend time in your company.

That, my friends, is all you need to know.

She would rather not be with you and keep her dirty little secret, than be with you and have her dirty little secret be exposed, and face questioning about it, questions to which she does not have good answers, which leads to more questions, etc etc etc.

Whenever you feel that WTF?!>! moment, or see a brother going through it, that is what is really going on.

So, I have a question for you, specifically for those of you who haven’t truly learned the wimminz play-book yet, and who still give a fuck, even a tiny one.

Why are you giving a fuck about someone to whom keeping their own dirty little secrets is more important than treating you like a decent human being?

What possible positive future or outcome do you hope for?

Push for answers and a resolution and the next thing you know the po-lice will be grabbing you by the collar, slapping the cuffs on, and charging you with harassment and intimidation and abuse.

And you STILL won’t be getting those answers you seek.

I have never yet met a man who had any of those questions answered honestly by the wimminz in question.

I know ONE man who had them answered posthumously when plod knocked on his door to inform him that his ex wife would not be collecting the kids as usual because she was dead, plod didn’t know anything at all about a sister, any sister, or any sibling, as next of kin, much less the sister who the wimminz was visiting every weekend for the past 5 years, 2 years separated and 3 years of marriage. Oh, and by the way, was he aware his ex wife was a swinger, and did he ever swing with her? Plod let him into her (used to be his) house, to get the kids clothes and toys, so he grabbed her laptop and later went through it. Then he found out.

It didn’t make him any wiser though, or tell him any USEFUL data that he had not already been given, simply by the fact that she preferred to keep him in the dark and fed on shit, while he went WTF?

Feel WTF? No freely volunteered info forthcoming from her?

Really, what else do you need to know?

Wimminz understand THAT message both instantly and perfectly.

Why don’t you?

October 12, 2013

Just how honest would you like me to be?

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 2:54 pm

With you, with myself?

How honest will you be, with me, with yourself?

There are plenty of things I won’t share, or talk about, and no, that isn’t code for being sodomised as a 7 year old or any of that shit, it’s just that there are some things that a me-centric enough that they are nobody else’s business.

But, while avoiding talking about specific things, some times we can talk about the paths we found ourselves on due to these specific things.

The feeling you get when you look at your family tree and actually realise for the first time you are a dead end, literally. And too old to meet and fall in love and marry and all that shit… so you are a dead end, literally.

The feeling a whole decade plus later, long after you have made your peace with the fact you are a dead end, when a wimminz deliberately and without consulting you or your wishes, gets pregnant by you, goes to term and delivers a healthy baby boy.

I suppose I could sit here and give y’all the proud and happy dad bullshit, but no, that ain’t true, it was duty and no more.

It is not the greatest day of your life, or the happiest, or any other fluffy shit.

Unlike the quiet day a decade before when you had had time to think and contemplate that you were a dead end, and be saddened by it, the day your son (commiserations if the womb turd is a mini slut) is born there is just too much shit going on for you to come to any honest answers.

I’m sorry, was I supposed to be a nice guy, a genuine solid man of integrity who was just used and abused and hurt by wimminz?8124529600_b3d6a8a504_z

I am the sum of my experiences, both at the hands of others and my own, if I am to take any credit for anything it is that I am not some crazed vengeful serial killer.

I am not a nice man, but I am a truthful man, and a fair man, and a stands by his word man, and don’t do unto what I don’t want done unto back, even when it is.

Said to a wimminz last week, one of the few who is honest enough herself to be able to have conversation with her, that in reality raising kids is like raising a dog, it’s not hard, it’s not rewarding, it’s duty, and your kids, however much you may love em, they are not companions, they are sovereign territories of their own.

She just stared at me in silence for several seconds, before casting her eyes down in shame and admitting what we all know, what I said was truth, that level of honesty with oneself is unsettling and disturbing in the privacy of your own mind, scary when it is stated openly.

When I was younger I wondered, and secretly worried, that I might one day be a paedophile, if I didn’t watch myself, you see I had these urges, and you can’t discuss that shit…. and then one day I met someone who I later found out worked with such kids and their abusers, very eminent, very respected, and so one day we had a discussion on the subject… turns out she knew before I did I wasn’t one, if she suspected I could have been we would never have gotten close, turns out that those feelings of awareness of the sexuality of some of the more physically mature 14 and 15 year old girls were just natural biological functions, and I learned new words like hebephile and ephebefile, and that I was neither of those either, being aware of sexual maturity isn’t the same as wanting to fuck… wanting to fuck was conditioned out of me by my family and society and the way I was raised.

Once I learned that I was none of these things because I was none of these things, not that I was none of these things because so far I had resisted urges and impulses, all the shame was lifted.

I had nothing to be ashamed about, looking at the St Trinians‘s girls (pic above) and thinking phwoar as a young man did not make me a paedo, it made me normal… I was not “in temptation” by mere proximity, there was no thin end of a wedge, there was no desensitisation, there was no hidden psychopathy, and then I in turn started talking to others, and found that they had had exactly the same “awareness” of sexual maturity, and the exact same thoughts of secret shame, because they went though the exact same mental processes of being scared to examine it, just in case they were sick in the head.

And suddenly all the shaming language used in society was water off a duck’s back, I knew it wasn’t me.

Sure, I knew I still had to watch my ass, not just do nothing wrong, but don’t get yourself in a situation where things could go wrong, but suddenly….

I was no longer participating in my own shaming and control and self loathing.

I didn’t come out the other side of it a saint, honesty to oneself is not a pleasant experience, but the people most horrified by my ‘gazing into the mirror’ honesty are those who set themselves up as custodians to society, and unease and awkwardness YOU felt reading the above disclosures is magnified a thousandfold by what those who set themselves up as custodians feel.

In my secret family court case the judge, lawyers, social workers, court shrinks and assorted hangers on quite plainly looked at me with absolute hate and loathing, not because of the various things I was maliciously and falsely accused of by my psycho skank ho ex, but because I stood up and looked them all in the eye and had zero internal doubts, I was no longer able to participate in the attempted shaming of me, and I could not be manipulated into making any kind of concessions or admissions or twists of language or allowances.

I was powerless, but I was a fucking rock, unmoved, unaffected, unable to participate in the circus and play my appointed role.

I didn’t *have* to be honest with anyone else, but I *had* to be honest with myself when looking in the mirror, I had to turn over rocks, pull out all the worms, give them a post mortem, and then examine everything for consistency, all the while fighting the urge to just turn my back on it all and ignore it all and pretend none of it is true.

I am 100% responsible for putting myself in a situation where the psycho skank ho ex could make false allegations of DV and FRA etc against me.

I enabled her to do this, I gave her the opportunity.

I kept doing it, even when I had several opportunities to bail, and I am not talking opportunities to walk away, anyone can do that any time, if they are prepared to pay the price.

I am talking opportunities to bail where I deliberately put myself back in the target zone.

She is 100% responsible for making malicious false accusations.

I am 100% responsible for putting myself in a place where she could, and then staying there.

The difference between then and now is now I have faced that internal mirror some more, and turned over far more rocks… not them all, but far more.

Some of those rocks include;

  • Being scared of being “alone”
  • Being scared of being a dead end genetically
  • Wanting to see myself as a knight in shining armour
  • Not wanting to accept that my initial impressions of someone were mistaken, there was no good, hidden deep with them, that would come out if only they were given a chance.

Yeah, it was the last couple that really did it for me.

Wanting to be perceived by others in a certain way is a folly.

Wanting to be perceived by yourself in a certain way is the greatest folly.

In a strange way, I am grateful to the psycho skank ho ex, if she wasn’t so psycho I would still be trapped in a prison of my own making. I know it is an anathema to say such things, like those who are grateful to shit that nearly killed them for giving them a whole new perspective and lease on life.

Finding and analysing and eliminating these rocks was key to ridding myself of the poison of anger and hate and loathing that dwelled within me, and I could see that same anger and hate and loathing in the judge, lawyers, etc etc

Don’t make a career out of keeping these rocks alive, Tamagotchi style…

In ages past they would have been called inner demons, and keeping them alive would be demonic possession, and of course da wimminz, well, that was where the word hysteria and hysterical comes from innit….

Guys often ask me why I still associate with da wimminz, and fuck them, why don’t I ghost.

Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, not because I am the meanest motherfucker in the entire valley, but because I am that valley, and I am done fearing me.

I never did fear others, it was always me that scared me, not what I was, but what I was capable of.

No longer, I have met the enemy, and he is me.

We have come to know each other, and come to a truce of sorts, not all of the rocks have been examined, but at least there are none left in our shoes or in our eyes.

How honest do you want me to be, I am a deeply flawed human being, but there is no malice in me, and I am content to get by trying to do unto others as I would have them do unto me, and avoiding them if they aren’t happy with that.

How honest do you want me to be, that son that was taken away from me and his paternal family, I’ll do something as / when / if enough factors change so that I can actually do something, until then I’m not going to beat myself up, or allow anyone else to beat me up, about being a deadbeat dad.

Don’t let this be you.

The old man’s sitting there, his head bowed down
Every now and then he’ll take a look around
And his eyes reflect the memory-pain of years gone by
He can’t regain nostalgic dreams he’ll never see again

With trembling hands, he wipes a tear
Many fall like rain, there’s one for every year
And his life laid out so clearly now, life that’s brought death
So nearly now life once he clung to dearly lets go

But spare a thought as you pass him by
Take a closer look and you’ll say
He’s our tomorrow, just as much as we are his yesterday

A lonely grave, and soon forgot
Only wind and leaves lament his mournful song
Yet they shout his epitaph out clear
For anyone who’s passing near
It names the person lying here as you
And you…and you…and you…


September 15, 2013

Dummies guide to what wimminz want.

The Dummies guides are reasonably good, if I read one dealing with a subject that I know something about in some depth, I find that they glide over everything and give a simplistic explanation and instruction that will usually achieve the desired result, but never educate the user as to why or how or what is going on under the bonnet as it were….

So think of this as the dummies guide to what wimminz want…

First thing you have to understand is wimminz never know what they want, that is not how they operate, they do however know what they DON’T want, and that is how they operate.

No keyboard detected. Press F1 to continue.

Those of you with any electronics knowledge will know the difference between an NPN transistor and a PNP transistor, and those of you with boolean logic knowledge will know about OR and NOR, and so on… none of them are very good examples, because they are all consistent and logical, whereas wimminz functioning when taken alone is an exercise in darwinism.sickdump-thumbs-picdump-133-40

However, when you look at wimminz functioning in the natural evolutionary environment, which is the wild card input into men’s functioning, then it all starts to make sense.

Nevertheless, we are here today to talk about the wimminz side of the equation, and as we have seen, wimminz are real good at knowing not so much what they do not want, but when they do not want that particular thing…. they might well have been clamouring to get that thing, and they may well have been content to have that thing, but this is all just the DON’T WANT at work, they did not want that thing, rather they did not want to not have that thing…..

These are transient states.

But only once they have had and sampled that thing, rather like a baby who has screamed and fought for a slice of lemon, only then can the wimminz logic actually make a real decision, and IF that decision is made, or WHEN it is made, the wimminz decision mechanism only allows one decision to be made, and that decision is NOT WANT, and at that time that particular logic circuit for that particular thing lets out the magic smoke and becomes permanently fixed.

Once a wimminz decides that she has had enough of your skinny ass in her bad, that is it, game over, forever.

Of course, if you win the lottery she will let you back into her bed, but, to her that decision to NOT WANT you any more is still there, that neural pathway is fused in for life.

But, to a wimminz, “Bubba the ex” is “item 485,874”, and Bubba the ex and his lottery winnings is “item 486,735”, a completely new and separate thing, not item 485,874 + $5,000,000 in cash, but a completely separate thing.

However, once she realises that either the cash is gone, or she ain’t gonna get any of it no-how, then like a magic trick there is a puff of smoke and item 486,735 turns instantly into item 485,874.

If Item 485,874 is a really unlucky bastard, item 486,735 will not turn into item 485,874, but into item 487,658, and item 487,658 committed rape and DV against her, so all she has to do is call in da po-lice and collect all that lovely money, and at THAT point, when she gets her hands on the fucking money, item 487,658 turns into item 485,874.

You see where this is going…..

The most popular, painful, excruciating and exciting game shows for all wimminz everywhere are those that include the formula where there are a series of things, A, B, C, D etc

As the wimminz contestant works her way through the game she wins item B and throws away item A,  then at the next correct play she wins item C and throws away item B, and so on, rinse and repeat.

If you want the bitches to wet their panties and freak with excitement as the hamster wheel does 14 squillion RPM, makes items A through M boxes that hold unknown prizes, each prize being an ever larger wad of cash, but randomly in there are three unknown boxes containing one red cent and a note saying “fuck off, loser”

To the wimminz this is working their way down a line of men, sampling each one that does not earn an instant DON’T WANT before it goes anywhere, until each guy does or fails to do something, and she wakes up and it’s DON’T WANT, on to the next.

And then one day they realise that the last 365 days have all been DON’T WANT, and guess what, they DON’T WANT that either, but being wired only for DON’T WANT, there is no way to fix this dilemma and accept the next half decent guy that comes along, some will try this strategy, but as soon as they have a man the DON’T WANT to not have a man is gone, so it is only a short time before they DON’T WANT that man.

Of course, we know where 100% of the fault, blame and responsibility for this situation lies, but since wimminz DON’T WANT to feel bad about themselves, well, it’s the fucking men’s fault innit.

If you want a wimminz to think “he is fucking dead to me”, all you as a man have to do is tell her to her face “I DON’T WANT YOU”, and that’s it, you are dead to her. Because she cannot conceive of a world in which DON’T WANT is anything other than a permanent state.

However, she *may* like item 485,874 above, decide to “change” herself, and then mebbe you’ll want her, so gastric band, liposuction, tit job, bingo.

One of the things wimminz DON’T WANT is being told CAN’T HAVE, and that is the basis for so called alpha male pulling power.

But, it isn’t kryptonite, because not all DON’T WANT’s are equal, as we have seen above, and as they get older, the DON’T WANT to end up alone and smelling of piss and cats starts to get REAL strong.

This starts ramping up big time in their thirties, and by the time they are in their fifties it is mainlining meth and PCP through their skulls 24/7.

I have had a couple of wimminz my age, just turned the corner into the half century, though their dating/swinging/fucking profiles claimed 41…lol… who would do ANYTHING I wanted sexually, and buy me beer, and so on and so forth, in an effot to trap me into a relationshit, starting by trying to get me to say I loved them, or trying to get me to give them an orgasm or lick their cunts… and then one day the penny drops, they realise they are NEVER gonna trap you, so not only are you an instant DON’T WANT, you are also an evil nasty mother-fucker who wasted three months of their lives, and when you are a 41 year old H^H^H^H^ 51 year old post wall wimminz, that feels like taking 20 bucks from a guy with 110 to his name, not only did you take a large chunk of what he had, what he has is now measures in two figures, not three, double plus ungood…lol

They DON’T WANT me so much it hurts.

And so dear readers, to conclude this brief introduction and dummies guide into what wimminz want, all you need to know is that there are two states to a wimminz logic.

  1. Schroedinger’s cat, almost, in that you simply do not know until you open the logic box if that cat is alive or dead.
  2. DON’T WANT, if the cat dies the box opens automatically, if you force the box open the cat dies automatically.

She will either be DON’T WANT, or DON’T KNOW, there are no other logic states, and don’t know is transient, while don’t want is permanent.


September 4, 2013

Grab a beer, pull up a chair.

Is my life the way I expected things to be? Is my life the way I hoped things would be? Is my life the way I dreamed things would be? Is my life the way I would like things to be?

The answer of course is NO

When I was a small boy dreaming of growing up to be a train driver or racing driver or astronaut, nowhere in my dreams was a future where everything about being a man would be despised and punished.

As a small pre-pubescent boy girls were stupid and boring, so frankly speaking a world in which they turned into worthless sluts wasn’t anywhere on the plans, as girls weren’t anywhere on the plans, so no big deal, and the only thing likely to have changed that for a 7 year old is who is gonna cook my tea?

But, a part of the process of growing up is the realisation that dreams and reality are not the same thing, and the gap between the two is not altered one iota by how much you want X to be true, all that changes is how much it hurts every day.

I never set out to socialise with men who apparently beat the crap out of their wives, raped the shit out of them, indulged in crazy obsessive psycho behaviour towards them, or wanted to fuck their little children… if I had I would have chosen an appropriate career.

In most cases of course I never actually meet or speak to or communicate with these men in any way, just the wimminz they did all this shit to.

I myself am not that kind of man.

So why do I find myself, if not increasingly tolerant towards such actual behaviour, then certainly feeling like I have more in common with these guys, whether they be alleged abusers or rapists or paedophiles, than I have in common with their alleged victims?

When a wimminz lies to a man, at the point that the man realises that X was total bullshit, while he may feel a brief flash of anger, the predominant and lasting feeling is wanting to puke.

When a bloke watches his ex on a fuck site picking up verification after verification from different people every week, 99.9% of what he feels is wanting to puke.

It isn’t a desire to kill her, or rape her, or beat the shit out of her, and if any of those feelings appear they are usually there for no purpose other than to mask the feelings of wanting to puke.

Putting yourself in proximity to that wimminz, where you can say something genuinely monumentally stupid like “why?” and actually think you are going to get an answer that isn’t total bullshit, is no more than the height of folly.

It is that “not grown up yet” thing, where you think that somehow, just because it hurts REAL bad, there must be some way to bridge the gap between your dreams and reality.

If you really really really believe hard enough, you can fly.

Your first vehicle crash, your first accident where you broke something expensive, or where your actions injured someone, or where that fire got out of control, or where you lost something really important to you.

Think back, what you felt was wanting to puke.

It is a natural human reaction when presented with a situation where the carousel stops turning and the music stops playing and there, right in front of you, is a big yawning gap between how you thought things were, and how they clearly are now.

Abject immediate and total fear for your very life will make you void your bowels and bladder, you will piss and shit yourself, a natural and evolved reaction to enable you to better survive what is right here and right now a life or death situation.

Presentation with having to face the gap between what you thought was so, and what clearly is so, is not life or death, so your body learned a different natural and evolved reaction, puke your guts up.

Ask anyone who ever got shitfaced, puke your guts up and 10 seconds later you are relatively clear headed and able to think, 10 seconds is way too long in life or death fight or flight, but it is just fine for needing to hit the turbo boost button on your brain to assimilate the difference between what you thought, and what is.

AFTER you have puked your guts up, and faced reality, the best word to describe what you feel is melancholy.

You don’t feel BAD, you feel SAD.

ohgodIamnevergonnafuckingdrinkagain is said by people who have not puked, but should have, those who have puked feel an immediate improvement, and either get back at it or wipe the bile from their mouth and say damn that was some nasty shit.

All those “no” answers at the beginning, if they make you feel sad then that is fine bro, you’ll live, and if they make you feel bad then you might not, because you ain’t puked that shit up yet.

Wimminz and their cupid stunts ain’t alcohol and diced carrots, you can’t call huey and ralph down the porcelain pipe and rid your body of the poisons that make you want to puke.

But like when you first broke something or hurt something, it is a virtual, a mental version of alcohol and diced carrots, so you have to do the mental equivalent of hurling that shit out of your body.

If watching “your” woman with another guy, or hearing about it, or reading about it, doesn’t leave with you not much more than a bit of sadness and melancholy at the sheer waste, then you need to puke that shit outta your head and heart until that is all you can make yourself feel, even if you try, most times not even that, cos you ain’t trying to pick at that scab.

If it still makes you want to puke then you have not squared what you thought was, with what was, and you need to get that shit sorted, pronto, and only you can do it bro.

Only way to do it I know of is to embrace the reality, and laugh at yourself for being such a stupid cunt you ever bought the fantasy.

The new guy upstairs is gonna get treated the exact same way the old guy upstairs was, he just don’t know it yet.

So her girlfriend turns up and all three of them go out in her shitbox 2 door compact car, guess who rides in the rear seats….. it ain’t the slits.

So what did the old boyfriend actually lose, (his clean record, his flat deposit, his liberty for a bit) with respect to her?

Serious question.

Only things he actually lost were never actually there, so he never actually lost them, they were never his to lose, sure, he had fantasies and dreams, and when the time came to puke them up and that bile rose and he was puking in his mouth, like a good beta simp he swallowed it all down again, yummy, please sir can I have some more.

So I watch a skank I fucked for a while until she lied to be slide further down the gutter, and how she is around the level where she is meeting people who (unlike her tales of allegedly abusive raping ex’s) really genuinely don’t give a flying fuck about her, they are there to use her and use her hard as long as he puts up with the ever increasing demands, rinse and repeat.

And so we are back again to where we started, where frankly I have more sympathy with them, than with her, even though they are pond life at best.

Accept *that* reality, and all the wanna puke feelings are history.

September 30, 2012



I’m not talking oil wells here.

I’m talking sex, female sex.

Thing is, I actually went to fucking school bitch, wimminz cunts don’t have any organs that can gush “cum” during orgasm.

Wimminz have cunt lining that can secrete juices.

Wimminz have a urethra connected to the bladder that can produce piss.

That’s it… there are no other organs analogous to the male testicles that can produce a sperm analogy that spurts on orgasm.

Gushing” is in fact “watersports” or “golden showerfor those too timid and full of shit to say “I like to play with (my) piss when I fuck… because that would be like, icky and sick and pervy.

So, you can imagine how well MY attitude goes down with these wimminz, lead fucking balloon, but hey, same shit goes for your attitude about gushing.

If we are at your place, piss on your mattress all you want bitch, if you are at my place and more than a drop of piss hits my mattress / sheets / floor you are scrubbing that shit clean to my satisfaction or buying new, and if you can’t control your bladder GTFO now.

But this post isn’t really about piss play, it’s more about psycho skank ho redefinition of everything that sucks, spammer like, as “that which we/I ourselves do not do”

I do not do piss play or watersports or golden showers, I “gush

yeah, right…

If you think PoF dating is soul destroying, or an eye opener, or a red pill experience, then you simply are not prepared for the swinging scene… I shit you not.

The differences are quite simple, many of the wimminz on the swinging scene have a pet niggerz beta houseboy, god fucking help you if you say something less than “gushing” (sic) praise for the wimminz, as she will set her pet houseboy niggerz on you, and all the beta niggerz who have worshipped at her cunt, and there could be anything up to 150 or more of these a year…

But even here, as I have noted elsewhere re PoF and the dating scene in general, much of the magic of the vagina is wearing off, and increasingly it is the fugly fat psycho bunny boilers and their coterie of niggerz that are left exposed as the tide goes out, shrieking in outrage and horror.

A rising tide may well lift all boats equally, but a falling tide is a motherfucker that strands everything that is not both seaworthy, but competently crewed….



September 11, 2012

Panhandling motherfuckers

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 10:44 am

It appears that Bill has the fucking begging bowl out again, less than 24 hours after the site crashed for 18 hours, and this is the niggerz who talks about the manosphere “growing up”… my hairy ass.

Contrast Bill with Plenty of Fish, also as it happens a website with one employee and owner.

But PoF gets >30 million hits PER DAY, 500,000 registered users logging in PER DAY, and it achieves this with just TWO web servers, THREE database servers, and the usual CD/akamai back-end for images etc.

It’s also free, like the spearhead.

In the spirit of full disclosure, I have been on the internet since long before there was a fucking internet, it was BBS‘s and fucking Fidonet, and amongst things back in the day I was a host, back when any individual could be, before it got corporate and crap and a race to the bottom offering unlimited everything for 2.99 a month.

I used to cater to all the special interest groups, initially at least, the warez groups, the hacking groups, the anti-spammer groups, you fucking name it, and I very soon learned my lesson.

For every believer who walked the walk and talked the talk in each group, there were a thousand wannabe mother-fuckers who just wanted to monetise and exploit it.

And so I drifted into web hosting when the WWW came of age, a very small pile of Cobalt RAQ2‘s that cost an appreciable portion of the value of the house they sat in, and a 2 mbit leased line that cost more than the fucking mortgage payments, and a UPS that weighed as much as a forklift that produced a staggering kilowatt (enough for all the raqs and my PC / laptop but not the big sony monitor) and ran off surplus deep cycle traction cells, and which cost as much as a small car.

And guess what, same old shit, a handful of believers who walked the walk, and for every one of them a thousand motherfuckers who just wanted to monetise everything some how, so they didn’t have to work for a fucking living.

Websites either sold something, goods or services, that paid for their upkeep, or they were “hobby” sites that were simply paid for by the owners, in the way that people pay for a monthly club membership.

The RAQ2 would in theory handle 200 domains/websites per box, all on 32 meg of EDO RAM and a 64 bit MIPS CPU with no heatsink, and a single soggy EIDE HD, this was JUST http calling static htm/html files, with the odd bit of cgi if you were leet… php/mysql didn’t exist.

In reality much past 100 domains/websites per box and things started to slow down.

And so it was, that one day I found that I had migrated all the wannabe panhandling motherfuckers to boxes #2, #3, #4 and #5, and all the “genuine” customers were on box#1

I talked later that day (no names and no pack drill, but if you were around back then you ABSOLUTELY knew this guy) to a guy who had been where I was with the BBS’s, and he said yeah, been there, done that, same shit, one hard core of real people, the rest a bunch of panhandling motherfuckers.

Box#1 had websites entirely coded in notepad, or later in Netscape/mosaic editor, and what they all had in common was while those domains might have http hyperlinks out;

  1. NONE of them contained, called or embedded anything not stored locally within that domain on the box
  2. NONE of them used frames
  3. NONE of them had any kind of advertising whatsoever, for anything not intrinsic to the domain itself.

By contrast, everything on the other 4 boxes started calling banner ads, animated gifs, external links, embedding external content, bloated http code, bloated images, then frames, interstitials, you name it, all of which didn’t just hit the boxes hard, it hit the router and backbone connection hard too… all panhandling motherfuckers trying to make money by nickel and diming world & dog & me.

Literally within a week I shut down 4 boxes, there wasn’t an ebay so I ended up keeping them, and selling them on privately to new ISPs etc, and returned to 1 box of genuine users.

Oh the wailing and gnashing of teeth, but my workload went from 18 hours a day to an hour or less a day, and bandwidth went from saturating the 2mbit line to fitting within 128k, and nothing of value was lost to the internet.

You wanna run a website, shut the fuck up and open your wallet, or sell some product or service on the website and shut the fuck up and open your wallet.

Do ANYTHING else, and I will suspect you of being a panhandling motherfucker, and chances are I am right, and for all his talk about the manosphere growing up and men’s this and men’s that, I gotta tell ya;

  1. a MAN can’t be a panhandling motherfucker
  2. a MAN doesn’t put the begging bowl out
  3. a MAN doesn’t act like a whiny little bitch and plead poverty
  4. a MAN doesn’t expect to be paid to do something he wanted to do

Asking for money to run a poxy website (eg server / hosting / domain package) that you REPEATEDLY prove you can’t keep up…. BOGUS motherfucker, totally bogus.

Tank of motherfucking gas a year.

Asking for money so you can sit on your ass and fucking WRITE, nothing less fucking manly on the planet… if it’s in you, write to get it out, if you the one in a billion that is the next Plato you’ll get some respect in the afterlife, but you still need a fucking day job.

Telling it like it is with injustices is something a man does, always at a personal cost, it ain’t a fucking JOB or source of revenue.


September 8, 2012

One flew over the skank ho’s nest

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:58 pm

One of the interesting things about site stats is seeing what links people do NOT click, the Men’s Links get almost no action, compared to links within posts or pages themselves, which is a shame because fully half of the men’s links are to do with the world and economy… no one trick pony stuff here, but apparently it falls on stony ground.

You know that thing about your pornstar name, name of your first pet + name of the street you grew up on, hell of a think when that comes up with more genuine sounding names than people’s actual given names, which is quite often the state of affairs now for anyone under 20, because they were named by their skank ho single mommy while she was high on bukkake..

But, in an allegory to the warning that the command “Fire!” could be issued in any language, even a funny sounding one, some of these kids with the wierded out names can come out with some stone cold shit.

So there I was, the autumn chill starting to bite in the evening, talking to some of the young scum, when one of them said something stone cold to me… he tells me I am a lucky motherfucker, because I have access to submissive sluts, I countered by saying there are submissive sluts his age, I know because I fucked one a few weeks ago and she was the same age as him.

So he takes the last draw on his smoke and flicks it into the canal and says “Yeah, but the ones your age can see the buzzards circling, they meet a proper man like you and see the last chance saloon, they see us and just see young boys, and the girls our age all think they are going to get a real big break and make it big any day soon now…

I just look at him silently, waiting for him to continue… he does…

makes a difference, you know, when a bitch thinks she has options, you know, she sees the buzzards and then sees you as a ride outta town, the older bitches you get like that ***** slut, they know it is all downhill, you’re the last proper man they are going to meet…

He’s 20 and has the declining SMV thing down stone cold, and I am looking at him and left with a powerful reminder that man was always a cursorial hunter, every 4 legged critter on the planet was faster than man, but man would walk them down, for days if required, and here is a man accepting that while certain game is on the menu now, he will have to await the passage of many moons and the acquisition of much experience before he can hunt other classes of game.

Irrespective of questions about which types of game are more worthy, I am left with the lasting feeling that the hunter / survival ethos is strong in this one.

The cosmic hilarity that somewhere in the 99% of “dark DNA” that comprise us, is the wiring and solution to the quite new and apparently unique problem of feminazism fucking up the world, Atlas didn’t shrug, DNA did.

50% youth unemployment in Spain and Greece, meet “the devil finds work for idle hands”.

…and some of those idle hands have been listening to older men like me, and hearing what we say…  like previous to this the conversation about asking various wimminz to define the differences between a whore and a slut, the conversation about how wimminz hate a man who makes then work for something, and then sets no further goals, but love a man who treats them like a disposable employee who only keeps the job as long as they show a profit for the company, the conversation about how every wimminz knows at least two wimminz who are in “unhaaaaaapy” marriages, but their husbands will be the last to know…

I may not be right about any of it, they will listen simply on the basis that it is an alternative TV channel to all the mainstream 57 varieties of social programming, brownshirts, blackshirts, SWAPO children’s army, Mao’s revolutionary kindergarten, and Hitler’s kinder egg, there is a vast and untapped resource here, just waiting for the right messiah, the right messenger.

Meanwhile I am living in a fucking asylum, so I need not seek it, and the feminazi inmates have long since taken over and are running the place into the ground, keep faking the meds, and fucking the skanks.

Smoke ’em if you got ’em.

August 5, 2012

Colour fast whites, rinse and spin

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:04 am


I’m talking washing machines, and greasy mechanics overalls or denim.

Some of the new biological powders can shift that shit, but the problem with 99% of domestic machines is the whole wash/rinse/spin duty cycle is too short to do a good job, because jenny housewife buys washing machines on 4 aspects, looks, load capacity, spin speed and cycle time.

Soak that shit overnight in a bucket with some biological powder thrown in and you have no problem, try and do it in a washing machine programmed by a wimminz (half load and quick cycle cos it is quicker, overloaded drum so nothing can agitate, 3x the required amount of powder) and it comes out with permanent stains.

I have never yet been able to train a wimminz to use a washing machine properly, and in some cases I am talking 3 or 4 years of effort, the instant your back is turned it is back to the half load button etc. Yet we are bombarded with common knowledge jokes that men cannot operate washing machines….

So, yesterday I am talking to this bint that I am considering fucking, and she tries to show me how intelligent she is……

Now like most wimminz who ain’t self employed (hairdresser) she works on the state tit, actually within the state system, and her “conversation” is a fucking litany of “customers” and shit like that… to which I naturally object, WE pay YOUR fucking wages with OUR taxes, WE are not YOU fucking customers, bitch, to which she responds with a whole diatribe about how important it is to put the right fucking label on the people who are the target of the service delivery in question and appropriate forward planning and consultation…

By now I am long past wanting to fuck her, I’m just in it for the shits and giggles, and she then admits that over 50% of the economy is the state tit, so I ask her what she thinks might possibly go wrong with that picture, where >50% of the “workforce” are living off the taxes paid by <50% of the workforce, and she trundles out the usual shit about past governments being at fault, she doesn’t care if they are labour or conservative, democrat or rebublican, they are “past governments” so fit the bill as scapegoats.

So I say it is fairly obvious, as / when / if the economy collapses, there have to be DRAMATIC cuts in the state nipple, to which she replies with horror, at all the “essential” services that they provide that would be cut… essential services like child social services.

Here is my intro, I start laying down some examples, she tries to deny them, I’m listen bitch, I have seen this shit first fucking hand, and can introduce you to as many people as you like who will echo my sentiments not yours.

Met with my intransigence, she again reverts to the “not like that here” position used for other governments, this time it is other city councils, other departments, other officials.

…..and that is when it hit me, this is just like every wimminz I have ever met, and their inability to learn to use a fucking washing machine properly, because they always without exception put the desired result (a quick wash cycle) in front of everything else, and if there are consequences, then these are simply denied, or palmed off “not like that here” style, in that it was the wrong sort of dirt, or the stain was already there, or the wrong thing to add to that load, you get the picture.

In their minds, there can be, neither can there be allowed to be, any connection whatsoever between THEIR actions and less than optimal / desired / intended consequences.

Now, not only are these fuckwits allowed to vote, and so constitute more than 50% of the electorate, but most of them actually live off the state tit, and some, like this bitch, are actually involved in the state tit high enough up to be dealing with resource allocation.

Country roads in good order and schools able to deliver ex pupils at 16 who have actually heard of long division, much less able to do it, are not as important as special needs interests, social services, “caring” for the vulnerable and weak…. mainly of course because the options they allocate budgets too are sort of self fulfilling, allocate the budget, pat yourself on the back and go home, nobody can tell if the fucking service in question is working or not… but making roads navigable and educating kids, well that takes actual fucking knowledge and experience innit, far too hard, that would be like programming a washing machine properly and sorting and pre-treating the loads properly….

I am here to tell you that this bitch is far from alone, and her dedication to this fucked up world view is so total and complete that it will last until she draws her last breath, which may or may not be expelled with a sob and the words “It’s not fair!”

There are NO men in these departments, just wimminz and niggerz…. and the few times things are privatised out, they aren’t really, not in the sense that I am a private business that has to actually fucking deliver to BILL, before I can think about making a profit.



August 3, 2012

Why skank ho’s be stupid

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 11:51 am

I am following on from some comments Hans made about me getting addicted to silky young cunt, but being saved by the bell by the herd intervening.

The herd intervening wasn’t a question of if, but when, and walking away from it unscathed is down to always having your cards on the table, and everything archived to the cloud, nobody is saying dick.

More on this later, but last night being the beginning of the months, I did go through my old contact list to do some filing (never delete, just file them in to “fucked em” and “skank ho” groups and archive) and check up on a couple, both of which I had talked to quite extensively in the past, both of whom only circumstances conspired to stop a meet and fuck, one was a no reply, the other one (deffo Cluster B, but hot.. lol) (yeah, I know) SMS me right back to say “don’t contact me again” shrugs, no problem bitch, your loss…. last time we spoke she was shining about her mother interfering in her life, so yeah, another herd save for the skank ho…

The thing is this, men are hard wired to really like fresh young cunt, and the one Hans was talking about, well, fact is she could have got me… almost certainly… IN THEORY.

I say in theory because all she would have had to do is put the effort in and put me/us first, like that is ever going to happen, the closest wimminz will come nowadays is parallel tracks going in the same direction while it suits them, so in practice getting anything worthwhile or lasting is a non starter.

But, Hans is right… “Danger Will Robinson!”.. the parallel tracks with a wimminz while it suits her is the guaranteed template for future heartache and troubles that all co-habiting and long term boyfriends run in to, only a question of time, because sooner or later those tracks will diverge, and it will be your fault for not following her lead, and if you do, well then you are a creepy stalker, get the fuck out.

Marriage strike, commitment phobe, all the other crap dumped on men, and indeed all the stuff the MRA guys hold up high as signs of victory, are in reality no more than wimminz work.

You cannot commit to, or be with, or marry some psycho skank ho who changes her wants and desires with the wind, and when the herd intervenes to make sure she does change her wants and desires, so the reality is it is not guys on a marriage strike or commitment strike, because lets face it, if the wimminz just picked one tune and stuck to it, they could all be married within a year, simple as….

The wimminz themselves aren’t on a marriage strike, that is way too intellectual for either the herd as a whole or individual members of the herd, temporarily isolated or not.

The wimminz and the herd are however on a quest, they are migrating in search of the lands of princes and yachts and fried snow, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, doesn’t matter what is on offer under their noses, the winds and the horizon are calling.

Men in the pack know there is nothing out there, we are already in the best bit of the valley/basin, sure there are new horizons, but they are successively more arid and desolate, but this little bit of harsh reality has been protected from the herd, who expect the pack to go out and irrigate and grow new savannah, just so the wimminz can turn their noses up at that too, because that is what they have become, fried snow seekers.

The pack is no more able to alter the nature of nature than the herd, if we could change the nature of nature, far easier to change the nature of wimminz (bit like the old joke about the guy who gets three wishes from God, uses two of them up on money and beer, and then asks for a 4 lane road bridge across the Atlantic, God says no fucking way, you any idea how fucking hard it is to do something like that, Guy says ok, give me a loyal woman, God says lets take a look at those bridge plans) but instead all we have done, at the herd request / demand, is isolate the herd from the consequences of their choices and actions.

If you talk to young wimminz in porn they will all without exception say exactly the same thing, the girl on the bed taking 25 cocks isn’t them, it is “Bambi” some sort of alter ego, and Bambi is a persona they put on by choice on shooting day, but it isn’t them, they didn’t really take 25 cocks… take away the lights camera action (eg evidence) and this sort of mentality is suddenly grooming and control and abuse by the nearest cock…. the rest of the herd will agree.

I just look at these young wimminz and think to myself, what a fucking waste, like giving someone a new merc and they never maintain it and smash it up and next thing you know its fit for the scrapheap, but they act like it is an appreciating classic worth more than the new list price, which they never paid anyway….

Sure they will all bang me if I want, but LTR, no, they are all way too good for an old man like me, even before the herd intervenes….. a couple have asked me straight up, what’s the real deal, so I tell them;

  1. By very definition of the fact you are doing this shit means you shouldn’t be allowed to make any choices for yourself, you should be property.
  2. 20 years old and 500 cocks (but only 25 of them count cos the rest were porn) you better take the FIRST fucking offer from a man you get, and be eternally grateful, even if he is 85, wears a daiper, and wants you to rim his ass daily.

At which point they either start laughing or crying, and either way avoid me… with one or two exceptions… remember all these chicks are single moms, so I see one with her two rug rats, both little girls, both raised by the state purse, so she lays some line on me, if I was nicer to her (spent money on her) I could have her any way I wanted…. I dunno, I guess it was a funny day, because instead of laughing I bit…  “Two things…” I said “… number one, anyone who wants you can have you, on camera, any time they  want

Number two … ” and remember this chick is 20 so all these literary / film references whoosh, which makes it even more ironic / funny “ … how much for the little girls? I don’t want to fuck em now, but I’ll book early for discount….oh sorry, did you think they were going to be a fucking lawyer and a vet… instead of following in mummy’s footsteps?

That does it, you just took their delusional illusion and wiped you ass with it, being near you is being near the death of their unicorn, so you are persona non grata…. while their lives follow the exact path you predicted.

Which all brings us all to the kernel of the problem.

Just what, exactly, is intelligence?

A wimminz brain is close enough, but different, to a man’s brain, but lets face it, not many of the niggerz out there display much intelligence either, so while intelligence is a byproduct of the organ we call the brain, it doesn’t appear to be a causal relationship.

There are various maladies that are located in the brain, but that can’t actually be detected by a visual dissection or inspection of the brain, that render the sufferer helpless and requiring the help of others to survive.

We will take one not so hypothetical example, her name is Samantha, her brain as far as anyone can tell is perfect in every way, but she needs help getting washed, dressed, finding her way home….  this would be fine if Sam was 5 years old, but she is 25 years old.

I’ve seen Sam and her same age female carer out and about, damned if you can spot the simpleton, none of the lads who hit on them appear to be able to either, and in fact the carers biggest job is stopping Sam and some random guy from getting it on.

Now, I can see why Sam is not eligible for a drivers licence, but the fact is the driving TEST serves its purpose, Sam could never in a million years pass a driving test, whereas her carer did.

What I don’t see is why Sam does not have the right to vote, but her carer does, when the difference is all apparently based on “intelligence”

While a driving test is mainly a test of physical proficiency, much of modern life is not, lawyers, social workers, office workers, there is not one shred of intelligence required, just some learning by rote, literally anyone can study and pass lawyers exams… just takes time and effort, no skill or intelligence of any kind required.

Which opens a whole tin of worms that the disabled industry is well aware of, Stephen Hawking, wheelchair bound mute dribbling idiot, except he is not, he is beyond all doubt INTELLIGENT.

It is almost like the brain is a muscle, and when it is exercised regularly and well it develops intelligence, and when it isn’t it does not, Hawkings brain, and Sam’s, and her carers, all look the same.

Sams and her carers are the same, never been exercised, in Sam’s case there may be some biochemical switch that does work, so exercise does not produce intelligence, but the end result is the same as Sam’s carers brain, atrophied, and does not produce intelligence.

No man who is a father of boys and who has been there to see, can have failed to notice that by the age of FIVE his sons could out think both their mother and their sisters and their female teachers and every other woman they came across.

Mommy “Johnny, stop using your super soaker to get Tiddles wet!

Johnny “OK mom.. <sigh>

time passes, Johnny and Timmy from next door use their super soakers to get next doors cat Benjamin wet

Mommy “Johnny, I thought I told you not to shoot cats with the soaker!!!!

Johnny, “No mum, you told me not to shoot TIDDLES, me and Timmy were shooting BENJAMIN

You know the rest…

…… and so wimminz be herd animals with low intelligence, because herd life does not exercise the brain, men be pack animals with higher intelligence, because pack life does exercise the brain.

Which leaves us, in the western world in 2012 AD, up shit creek without a paddle.

Because the fact is, it is illegal, with massive real world consequences and penalties, to treat wimminz as anything other than equally intelligent to men, unless said wimminz invoke DV or FRA allegations, in which case they are treated like Sam in the story above…. even though we all know, in 99.999% of cases, Sam in the story above is as intelligent as any other wimminz…

Now, I mentioned in the previous post, at the end, how Nature was going to address the obvious imbalances between the enlarged herds and the decimated packs.

Well, there is one way, and it is “rapid response” because it is already built in to all humans.

HG Wells talked about it, the Morlock and the Eloi, but as politically correct as ever, there were both males and females in both species.

Fact is, the herds, by their very nature of not exercising the brains to produce intelligence, and excising the pack influence which did engender intelligence, are producing skank ho’s like the porn sluts and their ilk.

The Morlock are the wimminz, (and the niggerz) because the fact is, zero intelligence of any kind is required by a wimminz to survive to breed, and Nature being the great economist, does not waste valuable energy on shit that ain’t needed to produce the next generation.

It was only in times of old, pre technology, that a wimminz needed a brain and some pack influence to survive, because she actually had to do various things for herself, in the modern world just being born with a cunt guarantees access to food and shelter and clothing and entertainment.

If we have a global war, the wimminz will have to start toeing the pack line, AND develop intelligence.

If we don’t and instead have a social and technological evolution and perhaps a pandemic, the wimminz will have to start toeing the pack line, and develop LESS intelligence (a stretch I know)

The young wimminz I have been fucking recently, nice young flesh, but you look in their fucking eyes man, I swear to god that I have seen more intelligence in the eyes of a dog or a cow. And I shit you not, and say this not for literary effect, I mean it most sincerely.

I don’t mean incapable through idleness of original thought, such as the 40’s and 50’s wimminz family lawyers and social workers et al.

I mean as dumb as a fucking animal, because those neural pathways were never lit up in the first place.

Their compliance in bed was TOTAL, how the fuck do you think they got kids, got into porn, whatever, and of course when the herd comes along again their compliance is total and immediate… when the slut exhibits compiance to a man, such as me, bad, when the slut exhibits compliance to the herd, good, black is white, two legs bad, four legs good… what about us say the ducks…

It’s not the predatory pack nature of being a man that is really, genuinely, actually, daily, so fucking dangerous for men like us, it is the fucking intellect that it has nurtured within us, the herd could tolerate us while we act as dumb as a sack of kittens, but show any true intellect, and they want nothing less than our eradication.

Intellect is the antidote to herd behaviour, and the herd will tolerate no antidotes.

Smart men will keep below the radar and place the long bet, not on the herd or the pack, but on Nature.

August 2, 2012

Team cunt in action


Team cunt is when one or more wimminz take indirect action against a man, by coercing another wimminz into or out of some course of action… a different course of action than that wimminz would have taken without outside influence.

It’s Team cunt because when push comes to shove it is always a herd instinct “decision” for the wimminz, sure, the thing the other wimminz are trying to push them into wasn’t what they would have chosen, and sure, the other wimminz aren’t really her friends, but they are my herd and will keep me company.

Most often I get this after fucking some young skank ho slut extremely well, she soon clicks to the idea that hanging out with me is the best hedge to the future she can possibly do, and the the protestations of love start, and it has to be said, they do mean it, when they say it…

Then they announce their intent to give it all up to this much older guy, to their wimminz circle of acquaintances, I won’t say friends, because no wimminz has any wimminz friends, just fellow herd members in team cunt.

Then the rest of the herd gang up on the young skank ho, I have literally seen mothers who neglected and abused young sluts to the point where the young slut truly fucking hates the mother gang up on the young slut with granny and aunt sally and her sister, and give them the whole ultimatum, dump this old loser or be expelled from team cunt.

And it doesn’t matter how awful these other wimminz have been to the young slut, she will side with them and dump you, because nothing scares them as much as being expelled from the herd.

I have seen wimminz pick up other wimminz and with no warning take them to a clinic so they can have a coil removed and get pregnant without the boyfriends knowledge or consent, and the baby totally fucks the relationship / marriage, and the wimminz in question still sides with team cunt.

I have seen wimminz concoct and create out of thin air False Rape Accusations against a man to attempt to totally destroy him, simply because this was the test of loyalty demanded by other wimminz, for ongoing membership of team cunt, even though nobody but the lawyers and police actually profited in any way from the FRA.

I have seen children utterly destroyed by being cut off from and brainwashed against men, for no other reason that this solidarity is demanded by team cunt.

I have seen team cunt grandmothers who themselves become the victim of other team cunt actions, cut off from all contact with their grandkids, turn around and just walk away from it, rather than go up against team cunt and show they are a blackleg.

I have seen team cunt wimminz lawyers and wimminz judges and wimminz social workers and wives and girlfriends, all act with solidarity to team cunt.

Team cunt doesn’t actually exist, it is nothing more than a herd mentality, 50 horses about to charge off a cliff and the 51st will fight you tooth and nail to break free of your safe keeping and join the herd.

Team cunt having exercised their power and control over the young skank ho who loved me and made her choose team cunt over a future in my protection promptly revert to form and neglect and abandon the young skank ho, but you have more hope of rationalising things with an opium dealer than you do of getting the young skank ho to reject team cunt.

This, my brothers, is one of the ultimate lessons in this blog, assuming you have read and absorbed EVERYTHING else here in the sidebars on the right, and much of the rest in the wimminz archives too…

The ultimate lesson is that wimminz are herd creatures of low intellect and high herd conformity and compliance, you can cut one out of that herd and break and ride her, but a pig wearing lipstick is still a pig, and she will still go back and answer the call of the herd, first time, every time, irrespective of how much personal damage this causes her, or you, or anyone else.

No amount of logical “well actually bitch they are just trying to fuck up what you have, for no reason other than it separates you from the herd, they have never given a fuck about you, and if you put half the effort into us, that you are putting into fucking us up to demonstrate your herd loyalty, you would never need the herd again” falls not on deaf ears, but on ears that see everything except rejoining the herd as the immediate enemy.

This all explains why individual wimminz succumb to the herd, but it doesn’t explain why the herd coalesces around individual wimminz who are thinking about leaving the herd.

The first thing you have to grep is that while wimminz may be a herd animal, man is a pack animal, so there is a limited amount of empathy there.. (ever wondered why men bond with dogs so much better than wimminz?) but one thing we do know about herd creatures is that the herd itself is the survival tactic, break it down into smaller groups of herds and they die off by attrition… safety in numbers.

Every single misandrist whining lie uttered about men by wimminz is no more than the hard wired bleating of herd creatures, unfortunately for men, some asshole gave these cunts the vote, and then jobs as cops and lawyers and judges, and now the herd is the king of the jungle.

When someone like me comes along and catches the eye of a young filly, the herd sees the predatory raping lone stallion/wolf stalking the herd, it isn’t jealousy that the young filly catches my cock and not the old barren mares, it is that the herd has an investment in the perpetuation of the herd, and the young filly is the future of the herd, and monkey see monkey do, so this shit has to get stomped on real quick, before the other young fillies get any ideas.

Because after all, the herd is just one answer for DNA to perpetuate DNA.

The relationship between the herd and individuals is all to one, and one to all, there are no individual bonds within the herd, contrast this to the pack animal, where there is pack loyalty in both directions, but pack loyalty is based upon individual loyalty and individual relationships.

But men and wimminz and not wolves and horses that cannot interbreed, so for most of human history there were strong herd traits in the pack animals, and strong pack animal traits in the herd animals, wife 1.0 was a herd creature with strong pack animal traits, husband 1.0 was a pack animal with strong herd creature traits.

The irony here is calling young Japanese MGTOW “grass eaters”, grass eaters are herd creatures, the young jap MGTOW are carrion eaters (not hunters) not grass eaters, they aren’t wolves, they are hyenas.

Go onto other sites and find “men” like keyster and eric who hate me, that is the hate the pack animal with herd animal traits feels for the lone hunter who is outside both the herd and the pack, neither wanting to be a part of, nor being accepted by, either herd or pack.

Where we have gone wrong in recent years in western society is that we have eliminated the dynamic at the borders between the herd and the pack, and created artificial filters and barriers, the pack is under attack, the herd is good, the pack is bad… four legs good, two legs bad… but what about us, ask the ducks?

The solution cannot come from either the new engorged herd, nor the new diminished pack, they have both been thrown out of equilibrium, and the answers cannot be found in either camp, rather, nature abhors a vacuum, and so nature will create a solution to both the problems of the engorged herd, and the diminished pack.

Nature could get real funky, some new plague vector that works selectively in sync with corn starch digestion in the human gut to reduce wimminz IQ by 50 points and men’s by 10, or nature could get real elegant, subtle alterations in sperm and ova chemistry so only 10% of the population can conceive, or nature could get real primitive, and thin both the herd and the pack with a pandemic with a 75% mortality rate.

Meantime, in shades of the old joke about democracy being two wolves and one sheep deciding what to eat for lunch, real world politics and economics and science and technology has been about ten sheep and one wolf voting to make straight fur and sharp teeth and a carnivorous diet illegal… what could possibly go wrong.

For men, in the meantime, remember that all bets are off, it is now literally and physically impossible to treat any wimminz as an individual, the rest of the herd won’t allow it, and when push comes to shove and you find yourself in a police station or secret family court for the heinous crime of not only not being one of the herd, but trying to separate one from the herd to bring out her pack tendencies, and to bring out your herd tendencies, one of the most dangerous tactics you can employ is the one I did.

To look each herd animal in the eye, one by one, hint at baring a fang, and smile the predatory smile.

Most dangerous, but possibly less fatal than perming your coat, filing your teeth flat and eating grass… because Nature has as much time and compassion for the current versions of both herd and pack as the herd of wimminz have for the filly that caught my eye, and dared to consider a life outside the herd.


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