Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

August 22, 2013

Conversations about wimminz

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

in Conversations with wimminz a few days ago I glossed over one subject, a far more interesting subject is talking about wimminz with other wimminz.

Never, of course, do this with any other wimminz in earshot, you will get an entirely different wimminz if you do that, but, if your red pill fu is strong enough, talking to one wimminz about other wimminz can be enlightening for those tainted with the blue pill.elementwoman

But, before I get into that, NAWALT / scorpion & frog / etc etc etc, you really, really, really do need to *get* this point, to do otherwise is to get angry at steel for rusting, wood for burning or water for evaporating on a summers day.

You just can’t treat wimminz as equal adult human beings, you have to treat them as rather stupid and naughty children, or a dog that is a few tins short of a six pack.

This isn’t sexism or misogyny or patriarchy or anything else, it is materials handling, health and safety, and good working practices.

So, conversations about wimminz (b), with wimminz (a).

If your Fu is strong enough, you will hear NOTHING BUT a ringing endorsement of all the above, about wimminz b, from wimminz a, in fact, if your Fu is strong enough, wimminz a will treat is as a test of her knowledge of her fellow wimminz, and clue you in on a lot of attitudes you would not have guessed.

Just as many things that are overtly sexual are merely funny or merely boring to children, who are by definition innocent, a feeling we can all relate to, watching something as an adult that we watched as children, and realising just how much of it went over our heads (cf Swallows and Amazons with Roger the ships boy, and Titty, etc) the further realisation comes that you can’t actually explain this stuff to a pre-pubescent child… it’s like trying to explain colour to a blind man.

Similarly, as a man, trying to get you to actually understand and empathise with what goes on in the biochemical cauldron that passes for a wimminz mind, is like trying to explain the 16 million colours of the RGB gamut to that blind man.

But, just as you need a course of study in chemistry to understand how and why steel rusts, wood burns and water evaporates, you need nothing more than a room temperature IQ and a functioning pair of eyes to observe these phenomenon and come to expect them as a natural occurrence.

I have yet to meet anyone mentally retarded enough to express surprise that hot food put on a plate is stone cold an hour later.

And so it is with wimminz.

So when you hear, independently, from wimminz a, who you have fucked, and wimminz b, who you have not, about a proposed threesome with you and wimminz a and wimminz b (these two wimminz have had them before) and the ensuing catfight, and then witness the actual dynamic going on….. stop refusing to believe your fucking ears, stop refusing to believe that *all* wimminz “think” and operate this way, stop being such a fucking dumbass.

wimminz a is a fat slob fuckup with womb turds and a job on the state tit, wimminz b is a slob psycho fuckup who was unable to have kids or otherwise suckle on the state tit, so wimminz b keeps wimminz a as her pet toy to torture and abuse, trying to make someone not quite as unfuckable as she is into something below her own level.

Arranging and participating in the rape of wimminz a, arranging and participating in threesomes with wimminz a and her current cock, and thus fucking up the potential relationship between wimminz a and said cock, fucking wimminz a’s husband and calling wimminz a from the bedroom, claiming it was just done to prove to wimminz a that her husband didn’t really love her, not like wimminz b loves her, turning up or calling at all hours in dire need and distress, and the beat goes on, and on, and on.

And wimminz b rationalises this as her being in love with wimminz a, who is the kindest person on the planet.

And wimminz a rationalises this as her being bestest friends with wimminz b, who just is unlucky somehow, but they have been through so much together.

I shit you not, this is not just a case of I could introduce you to these “people”, I could prove to you, beyond all your worst nightmares, that AWALT.

They just will not EVER admit to it except in a 1 to 1 private conversation.

You ever wondered *why* team vagina existed?

If it didn’t, within 5 years wimminz would be reduced to the status of domestic animals, and they fucking know it.

You can handle wimminz, with the appropriate precautions, and that is what the red pill is, but you can never ever ever perform alchemy and transmute lead into gold.

First of all you have to find a wimminz that WANTS the level of handling required, and that’s tough jack, it’s especially tough if you are looking for gold and the only things on offer is some old iron ore (sic)

And a part of that handling is when you refine that iron ore into some low grade steel to cast a piss poor copy of the thing you really wanted in gold, you have better make the point, brutally, every day, that she better shut the fuck up and sit still for the wipe down with an oily rag, because the absolute worst thing you or anyone else can do to her, ever, is for you to simply walk away, and she will turn into rust, not even back into low grade ore.

And she better believe that with every fibre of her being, so much so she is grateful every day for that wipe down with the oily rag.

Every other option on the table is like that rather hurtful if true and amusing poster about the mong winning the race, he may have won the race, against other mongs, but he is still a fucking mong.

Is winning and fitting in really that fucking important to you?

Is anyone else’s opinion on the low quality of your low grade steel knock-off of the finely engraved and inlaid solid gold spoon really worth a fuck.

Is having one eye really such a disability in the land of those who have two eyes, and mock you for your one, but who nevertheless may as well be blind, because they cannot see, and worse still, do not think they are blind…

Did you *really* buy all that shit about poor impoverished families killing off their girl babies simply because they could not afford a dowry a decade and a half later when it came time to marry them off? And for no other reason at all?

June 9, 2013

“my son’s cock” & sperm brothers

as subject, it’s not a conversation I can *ever* recall a man starting with me, ever, not even in passing reference, wimminz on the other hand, they all have some variation / combination of summer shorts / sitting down / towel slipping / whatever, to explain why they ended up looking at their teenage son’s cock… and it is a subject that most if not all wimminz with teenage sons have managed to inject into a conversation with me at some point.

wimminz will also of course have loud noisy kinky sex with you so their kids and neighbours can hear it, or rather, can not possibly not hear it.

quite why wimminz apparently feel no boundaries on their sexuality between themselves and their kids is something beyond the scope of my intellect, certainly beyond rocket science, or else, it is really very simple, wimminz will fuck anything if they can tell a convincing lie and deny it and get away with it.

So Layla who is 51 becomes Linda who is 41 on the dating/swinging site, and dude if she told you she would do “anything” in bed, you can bet your ass she said that to the absolute minimum 100+ guys before you, and you can bet your ass enough of those guys said “anything huh… okaaay” that anything becomes everything, she has done everything, including a lot of shit that probably would not occur to you or appeal to you, but, she has done it.

And Layla ain’t that fucking dumb either, she knows that skank ho Susie, who has finally realised all she can offer you is booty call, so offers it, is a real fucking dampener on Layla’s plans, and how much she can inflate the value of access to her cunt, and the pleasure of her com-pan-eee… so convincing you to cut yourself off from Susie becomes a real priority for Layla, and she’ll buy you your favourite beer, and say fuck all about habits of yours that boil her piss, because she is on the hunt… and you are on the menu.

Layla has the same opinion of me as many wimminz, I am too fucking “aggressive” and by aggressive what she actually means is Code Rainbow, this rude boy ain’t buying ANY of my bullshit, nor is he backing down at my usual tactics.

The only play she has left is to take her ball and exclude me from the game.

I just been banned for life from yet another forum on yet another sex site, the initial charge was that I breached the T&C, I challenged this, stating that I had not, in any way, broken the T&C, and if they could show that I had I would not only back down and apologise, I would send then a cheque for 100 notes to be given to the charity of their choice.

I got an answer, that I was way too aggressive for the forums, meaning I don’t back down when faced with wimminz bullshit, fair enough, their site, their rules, but even then they cannot be honest about this, “attitude” isn’t covered in the T&C, so the initial reason given was bullshit, no worries, I will keep my 100 notes.

You could sit there and say Layla was a dumb fuck, all that do anything in the bedroom was 60% of the trick, buying me my favourite beer and shit was another 30% of the trick, the remaining 10% was to not try to fucking manipulate me.

But the fact is Layla, and wimminz, don’t work like that, kinky sex isn’t something they do because they enjoy it, which is why I, as a man, do it.

Kinky sex is something they do because it is a way, usually, of achieving control and power and influence over a man, and that is what they enjoy.

Take away the idea that they can ever actually attain that power, or worse still, actually grant that power, and the kinky sex is removed, after all, it was never done for its own sake.

Take away the idea, as I did to Layla, and I am a nasty manipulative and aggressive man, and she is damn grateful she sussed me out before I sucker her in too deep, and she is as pissed as fuck that she wasted 3 months of her life on me, and that’s the 51 year old life, not the 41 year old profile life that is still ten years away from the menopause… lol

Grant that power and you are a pathetic loser of a man.

When the only tool you have is a hammer, everything gets treated like a nail and pounded flat.

When the only tool you have is a cunt…..

It’s a uniquely male trait to look at Layla and think “what a waste“, just as it is a uniquely male trait to look at an old but once great vehicle or piece of machinery and think “what a waste

But, unlike an old vehicle that has seen better days, Layla is the architect of her own fall, and if you were foolish enough to tamper, she would resist and fight you all the way.

This is why all other late forties onwards feminazi wimminz are so fucking bitter and man hating, they know two things for a fact;

  1. They themselves are 100% responsible for the situation they find themselves in.
  2. They have hit the wall and can no longer delude themselves that their own personal history is a story of steady decline and fall, under their own captaincy.

If you think under 40’s wimminz can be batshit crazy, you ain’t seen nothing, wait until they can see that wall coming in their nightmares, or worse still, after they have hit it… they are as good a definition of insanity as you are likely to find.

Einstein defined insanity as repeating the same actions over and over, hoping for a different outcome.

Older wimminz like Layla, they don’t just repeat the same actions, they fucking double down on the bet every time.

The 3 months she “wasted” on me ain’t more than a chunk of change out of a 41 year H^H^H^ 51 year life, subtract 14 for 37 sexually active years.

The 3 months she “wasted” on me is however a fucking huge bite out of any imagined sexually active years remaining, and Layla is one of these progressive/desperate bitches that goes to the fucking gym every day to try to keep in shape, and has potions and lotions to try to make her skin feel and smell like it did 30 years ago, and all the rest of the finery and drapery and shit.

There was a (white) south african thing about “sperm brothers”, two guys who had fucked the same skank, and only realised it later, over a beer.

Thanks to the internet and technology and sex sites, after a period of time you start to see something, something entirely expected, but nevertheless something deeply warming and pleasant to see.

You start to see that the sperm brothers come in groups, and generally speaking so do the skanks / cum buckets, and individuals tend not to stray out of these groups.

The feral feminazi skank ho’s are one group of cum buckets, and there is an associated group of sperm brothers, but the chances that any of these guys have been anywhere near Layla is slim indeed, for she is in the group of feral the-wall-is-approaching-but-I-only-have-an-accelerator-pedal group of cum buckets, and that has a separate but associated group of sperm brothers.

And then there is the roving “band of raiders” sperm brothers, of which I am one, and we look like a group to those outside, but we only come across one another when some wimminz gets a case of mistaken identity, or assumes we are a crew and drops one name to another, we nomads dip into the various groups of skank ho cumbuckets, like ghosts in the machine.

turn your speakers up and go fullscreen

Bitch it’s me

June 8, 2013

no shit, part 93,954

There are some things I just can’t talk about, and others that I can, but I have to choose my words very carefully, and, sometimes, that act of choosing the words carefully makes talking about that thing pointless, because the redacted bits were an integral part of the story..

So, I wrote something on here nearly 18 months ago, it concerned a “fuck me now” skank I found on PoF… chat on PoF, invited over, fuck the crap out of her, leave… never been back… she is still there on PoF…

Imagine my mirth when this same skank turns up on a different site, and takes a look at my profile and decides to give it a go.

At this stage there are no face pics from me, and no profile pics at all from her, and so as usual I accuse her of being a man unless she can send me some pics, which she does, and I am thinking “I know that bitch”

So (and here we again see the benefit of keeping digital archives in perpetuity, backed up to the cloud of course) I check my records and yup, that’s teh grrrrl.. this could be fun.

So she asks for a face pic of me, and I send one, sitting back, smirking, waiting for the expected reaction. Or, simply being blocked.

And guess what, she carries on like she has never seen me before in her life.

I have mentioned this before in the internet dating stuff about wimminz forgetting who they have and have not selected and rejected in the past, and never to take rejection as permanent, but fuck me, to not remember a guy you invited into your house just over a year ago, a guy who spent several hours plundering all your holes to his heart’s content, and then you’re trying to tell the “new” me that you don’t often fuck, that you often go months without, that you still ain’t into three figures cock count wise…

… and we are not going anywhere near the issue of the PoF profile portraying one thing, and the other profile portraying a filthy whore who will do just about anything (that profile at least is correct)

I mean, WTF, I know you fucking wimminz are as thick as shit, and I know your hamster wheels and temporal narcissism can cause you to re-write some history and simple omit or ignore other bits on a whim as it suits you, but, I have to say…


Do you really think ***I*** won’t remember the cunt I fisted, the ass I pounded, the tits I bit or the face I slapped and pissed on, all at your request bitch, only just over a fucking year ago! WTF

Apparently *you* do wimminz, because otherwise you’d keep a MUCH closer watch on who YOU’VE fucked, so that the scenario I am describing here could never happen.

I can kinda get not caring enough who you fucked a year or two ago to not ever think about them, but to not CLICK when you cross paths with them again…

I was just chatting about this to a mate on the phone, and he joked that I am just pissed that I wasn’t a good enough fuck for her to remember me.

I pointed out that we can both remember skanks we talked to or IM’d or SMS‘d but for one reason or another it never got past that stage.

I ***KNOW*** the memory is in this skank’s head, because I have seen this so often with wimminz, but they really do appear to have the multiple personality schtick where the personality I am talking to now, is not the same personality that holds long term memories, and this personality knows the other one is there, and it could go ask that one and get answer, but just can’t be bothered to…

No wonder hitting the wall is such a major system shock for the skanks.

Wall? what wall? what are you talking about? BLAM! WTF? Boo-hoo…

May 29, 2013

Grapes, sultanas, raisins and currants.

Amazingly, or not, given the lack of culinary skills in modern wimminz, no wimminz I speak to today knows that the latter three all come from the first.

I thought of these, and prunes, today while reading a story, with pictures, in the MSM about some wimminz who had a gastric band and then surgery to remove the excess skin, naturally all the comments from wimminz and niggerz were supportive and full of praise…

article-2332103-1A09670E000005DC-799_306x516article-2332103-1A09670E000005DC-127_306x516The freak in these pictures is in her thirties, early thirties at that, and frankly the surgery was just as big a waste of money as the gastric band, she is still unfuckably ugly, as for the skank tats, well it’s a bit like graffitti on a particularly grotty public toilet, it doesn’t detract from the value, because there isn’t any.

It is absolutely typical of wimminz complete and utter failure to grasp the concept of consequences for your own choices and actions that lead to this wimminz piling on an excess 10st of blubber in the first place, WTF did she think would happen to her skin?

WTF did she think would happen to the excess skin when the gastric band went in, in place of a fucking brain and willpower?

WTF was the daily fail picture editor doing, blacked out nipples, but we can still see the rest of the skank… the truly mind fucking stuff.

Her nipples were probably one of the few parts of her body to not suffer the ravages of obesity and fugly.

Of course I am quite partial to the odd grape, or sultana, not too big on currants or raisins but I’ll eat em both in dough, so it isn’t a good analogy.

Of course the piercings and so on all indicate a wimminz into kink, which I like, but the general public toilet approach means a wimminz who is into kink because she despises herself, which I don’t.

I agree with her self assessment, which is why she is unfuckable.

As part of my work today I visited an area that I used to live in as a callow youth on a murdercycle, frankly I got out (of the area) and never looked back in one of those “this town ain’t big enough for the one of me” scenes, if I’d stayed I’d be doing double life for some atrocity or another, committed just to relieve the ennui… bit like this skank, the only acceptable way to view her is in the rear view mirror with the motor coming on song, and brother, no matter what lies ahead, never make the mistake of going back.

In fact wimminz are more than just a little bit like an episode of Storage Wars, an entirely fake made up show, in which the people pay way over the odds for someone else’s unwanted junk, and then, having bought it, BUT NOT SOLD A FUCKING THING, they sit there going through the shit, saying what each bit of crap is worth, and declaring they made a profit on the deal.


The value of the skank above is sub-zero, and not in a good way, she would have to pay me to fuck her, and of course the parts of her with the greatest negative value are the parts you can’t fucking see in the pix, her attitude, her cock count, her hamster wheel, etc etc etc.

It’s like Obama claiming he is priceless, because his moral compass has never even been taken out of the box, much less used, this is not a gooood thing, Barak, it is a fucking baaaad thing.

The shit you should have used you did not, the shit you should have kept you squandered.

Thing is, when you look at this skank, remember this, for purposes of comparison to MANY wimminz out there, this skank would be a trade UP…

April 20, 2013

You are a nasty angry little man.

Yeah, sure, in reality there is stuff that boils my piss, there is bullshit I won’t suffer in silence, I make no attempt whatsoever to be politically correct and tell it like it is (or at least, how I see it) as a matter of routine.

Sure, I will sit there and stew, you fucking fucking cunt asshole, mutter mutter, but in reality this is whatever stresses I do have boiling away rather than being repressed and internalised.

Sure, there are things that I disagree with PROFOUNDLY, such as the way the state and the system have treated my kids and my ex, and by extension wimminz and single mommies in general.


But the reality is overall I am the most de-stressed individual you will ever meet, the wisdom of St Francis, I ***KNOW*** there is shit I cannot change, so I just shrug and get on with life, and overall life is treating me pretty good as a result.

I am not an nasty angry little man, I am an experienced man who literally does not give a fuck about anyone else, I don’t care what they think, I don’t care what they feel, I am not responsible for their happiness or their precious little snowflake delusions.

*they* mainly cannot fucking believe that someone, me, had the nerve to come out and say the things I said, because what *they* are used to is nobody calling them on their shit.

So on a social networking site, some skank ho with a handle not a million miles away from “worms in my head“, with dead fish eyes, with a shaved head, with piercings, with fuck off great huge tattoos all over her body, with a wardrobe that looks like it was chosen from Malcolm McLaren‘s hand me downs back in the punk era, with no job because they are “too ill to work”, asks a question about whether “someone” disclosing mental health issues is likely to affect their chances of getting a meet, yours truly tells it like it is.

Yours truly says, one look at your profile pics bitch, is all the confirmation I need that you are fucking looney tunes, and no I would not fuck you, but, in your favour, at least you are OBVIOUSLY loony tunes, which makes you safer to be around than all the undiagnosed Cluster B wimminz out there, and their white knight niggerz.

Yours truly is not shocked, or outraged, or surprised, or anything else, by the tsunami of outrage and bullshit that follows, or the fact that yet again it comes from the same small section of the overall “membership”, or the fact that they are all the skank ho psycho wimminz who I wouldn’t fuck anyway, fugly cunts well past their use by date.

Yours truly is not surprised at getting yet another forum timeout.

Yours truly is not surprised at getting his comments deleted from the thread.

Yours truly is not angry, or upset, or a hater.

You want the truth, yours truly know an iniquitous cesspool of skank ho mirror mirror on the wall when he sees one, and sometimes it is fun to throw a rock in the cess pool and watch the ripples spread out, aim it properly so it lands on one of the subsurface lurkers and hey ho.

What *IS* interesting is the odd female who starts agreeing with what I say, and who promptly get THEIR comments deleted also.

What *IS* interesting is the odd male who starts standing up and noting that it is always the same fucking wimminz who object to everything everyone else says anywhere in the forums.

What *IS* interesting is the ABSOLUTE denial of the more extreme psycho skank ho wimminz and niggerz who cannot, fucking, believe, that a complete cunt like me can actually get any cunt myself.

They are as thoroughly brainwashed as the average american is about Islam.

If you are a yank reading this, here is the news, the rest of the world hates the fucking USA the way one wimminz hates another wimminz with bigger implants and smaller thighs, its the hypocrisy we hate, truth justice apple pie and predator drone strikes on civilians after interfering with democratic processes in other countries in resource wars, that is what the USA is and what it does.

The rest of the word “hates you for your freedom” just like everyone one the forums hates these skank ho wimminz for their sensitivity, sensuality and sexuality.




The Chechen brothers were not chilled out and so laid back as to be horizontal guys like me, content to comment and not buy your bullshit, they were nasty and angry little men, who took to violence to make a statement.

People like me, we are the canaries in the coal mine, quite happy to sing away in our gilded cages, it beats the living shit out of slaving away at the coal face, or being a pit pony, etc

There the analogy breaks down, because the explosive gas does not kill us and silence us and act as a warning to everyone else, on the contrary (kudos to Harry Harrison) we are the new breed, genetically enhanced canaries, we are the only cunts in the coal mine who can breathe explosive gases, hell it gives is a buzz, so we cheep LOUDER.

Explosions, that’s what we are chirping about, explosive gas = explosions = blowing this fucking gilded cage apart = freedom from oppression and bullshit (kudos to Fritz the Cat) … it’s a high bro, tweets to all the other canaries in the mines, PAAARTAAAAY time.

Attacking the canaries is textbook MISSING THE FUCKING POINT, the canaries aren’t the explosive gases, nor are they mining and releasing the explosive gases (To be strictly correct it wasn’t just explosive gases, it was lack of oxygen that canaries were there to warn about) nor are they running the mines, in fact we had less freedom about being here than the miners themselves, who sold their souls to the company store, but who did it voluntarily.

No, the only nasty angry and delusional assholes here are the ones who are trying to shut the canaries up, because they have no answers for the other angry nasty delusional assholes WHO THEY THEMSELVES BRED, like the Chechen boys.

So, I have lived to see (virtually from a distance) a daytime curfew in the USA, achieved by two nasty angry young men, and a room full of wimminz and niggerz who WILL NOT TOLERATE any attacks on their authoritah, y’hear….

Game over man.

Who do I have to fuck to get a transfer out of this chickenshit outfit.

January 28, 2013

The intersting thing about free will…

Is not that it isn’t free, but just how much of it is ruled by biochemistry.

I have wibbled on here before about Toxoplasma gondii, whichy makes cat piss smell interesting, and cat people, but there are better examples.

The guinea worm is one, you get it by drinking infected water, then it grows in the gut until it is as thick as a piece of spaghetti and 18 – 24 inches long, whereupon it burrows its way down through your limbs, and when it is ready to emerge and lay eggs and start the cycle again, it drives the host to water.

The point many people do not get, is these parasites are able to significantly influence the behaviour of the host organism, and it doesn’t really matter what the host organism is, human, oxen or goat, the same parasite is able to exude a biochemical trigger that has the exact same effect, not just across individuals, but across species.

Different parasites have different goals, and when you start to study it it is hard to come up with some aspect of human behaviour that cannot be either directly or indirectly influenced by the parasite

Which makes the whole concept of free will interesting, living in a modern technological society where were are effectively swimming in a biochemical soup all thanks to modern technology and mass produced products.

If a specific biochemical can trigger an interest in cat piss across species, and another specific biochemical can trigger an urge to go down to the pond or river and stand in the water, and so on and so forth, it isn’t really that much of a stretch to imagine a specific biochemical trigger that can make men more gay, or make wimminz more slutty.

In fact, it isn’t any kind of stretch at all, the contraceptive pill is nothing but a biochemical trigger, and I have been around this planet long enough and fucked enough wimminz to spot the marked differences in behaviour between a wimminz on estrogen, a wimminz on nowt and going through her cycles, a wimminz who is pregnant, etc etc etc.

Sure, it’s anecdotal, as is the observation that wimminz that drink over a litre of coke a day are all fucking cluster B and have a messy house, or the observation that wimminz who have had a lot of cock have a very high incidence of cervical cancer, or the observation that wimminz with blue cars don’t have steady boyfriends…

… but just because it is anecdotal doesn’t mean it is shit… red sky at night, sailor’s delight…

… which all reminded me of a crazy bitch I fucked years ago, she was every bit as crazy as the crazy I fucked last week, the word many will use is delusional… and she used to spout about the Nazi’s and BASF and Bayer and mind control through chemicals and all that good jazz.

To me she was just a crazy bitch and a good fuck, but about a year later I was talking to another guy who had porked her for a bit, can’t even remember his name, but he had a then brand new Yam XJ650, and during the conversation I found out he was a research biochemist, imagine my surprise when he tells me that in between fucking her they were talking and his job came up and next thing he knows she is hitting him with a whole load of (then) cutting edge biochemistry, and it was soon apparent to him that she was much better trained at his job than he was, she was in his own words world class and could write her own ticket anywhere on the planet, if she wasn’t so crazy…

But her “crazy” was insisting that all these big companies were collecting data on how various compounds could influence human behaviour, 30 years later she doesn’t sound so fucking crazy to me…

Now, I don’t pretend to know all the answers, or even a few of them, but I do find these to be interesting questions, and while I am the first to admit that correlation =! causation, there sure are a shit lot of parallels since around 1960 onwards to the changing environment in which we immerse ourselves, biochemically, and the way attitudes and society has changed.

The fact that we HAVE been performing this great biochemical experiment upon ourselves is not in doubt, where I would differ from the 1980 crazy is in suggesting that it is all deliberate and planned… if there is data gathering it is no wonder after things like Thalidomide, which could well have affected me if my mother took it during pregnancy, for I was of that era… nobody wants a lawsuit.

I share a lot of genetic material with one set of cousins, unlike them we always eat fresh food and veg, where they always eat frozen, the aunt in question was well known for having two chest freezers full of food and never any fresh foods in the house, “Mrs Bird’s Eye” she was called… so it is definitely a correlation that the cousins in question are all in poor health compared to me, despite the fact that I am older than all of them, but is it a causation… good question… I wish I knew the answer.

But it isn’t just health, there are broad and obvious behavioural differences between us too, as as far as nurture vs nature, well, one of their parents and one of my parents grew up together as siblings, so they came with common values and standards and history…

And when it comes to progeny, their kids bear almost no resemblance to them when they were little kids themselves, but mine are always seen as being “mini-me”.

Could this all be down to growing up eating processed frozen foods wrapped in plastics? Of course it could…but how to prove it, and even if you could what would be the point, you can’t go back in time and reverse it.

To this day, if I get the munchies I grab a piece of fruit or maybe a jam sandwich, biscuits and chocolate and crisps and pot noodles and suchlike are things I literally may eat once a year.

But then, in reality I am not a control specimen, I am just choosing to immerse myself in a different end of the biochemical pool that we all live in now, it’s not a deep or containing as many complex compounds, but it certainly isn’t 1950 style either…. maybe that by itself is sufficient to explain why my attitudes are perceived as being old fashioned.



January 4, 2013

It’s a jungle out there

There is a lot of talk about the pinnacle of feminazism… articles like this (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2256850/How-feminism-blame-breakdown-family-Left-winger-Diane-Abbott.html), and suchlike, but I have long said that you have to go where excesses are not merely permitted, but celebrated, to find the pinnacle.

The pinnacle of AWALT can arguably be found in the swinger community, and within that community with that subsection that consists of cohabiting or married male / female couples that regularly invite extra males to fuck the wife in question.

At this point I really do wish I could post some pictures, but that would be wrong and inviting trouble.

So I am going to start by asking you to imagine a hamster wheel running at top RPM, but with the bearings and everything else shot, a huge final death wobble on, but still actually rotating at this point.

What you have in the swinger sense is the female of said couple above, but this is a female well past her sexy prime, overweight or fucking obese, time doing a hatchet job on her, has to book 5 guys to “come around tonight and fill me with cum, any holes u like” in the hope that one or two will actually turn up, and none do, and she does the same thing next night, going dogging up secluded hill, with the same results, then posts an appeal at midnight, anyone wanna come and fuck me, with no results.

Where the choices are book ten guys that you select from profile and pics and maybe 2 or 3 will actually turn up and fuck you, and none of them are after anything more than a pump and dump, or go to a club scene where you can get ten guys to pull a train on you, but you don’t get to choose who.

The days of buy me drinks all night and maybe I will let you suck my tits are back there somewhere with the dinosaurs.

Yes folks, the swinging world is the last secret refuge of the entitlement princesses, Conan Doyle style, and somewhere under the island / hidden valley there lies a volcano about to blow its top.

The 35 year old obese cum dumpster loses out every time to the 32 year old in reasonable physical shape who hasn’t yet slid that far down the slope, and that is the real volcano rumbling away under the island.

The entitlement pwincesses seeking validation are already sliding into the magma chamber, on the slippery slope of ever decreasing SMV / sexual market value, and by the time they get to the point where they drop the “I’m being picky because I can” bullshit and sycophantic verifications from the three sad dweebs they did fuck last year to the reality of having to go dogging to get some cock and taking anything that turns up to dump a load, it’s no longer a slide, it is free fall city.

Jane49 is on the back burner, as / when / if she wants my cock again she will call, nothing I can do to influence that, so nothing is exactly what every sane man should do, nothing about jane49 that is…. never ever ever ask her when you are going to meet or fuck again….

Pulling the bits you like out of Jane49 like GG tits and a juicy cunt and ignoring all the defects is like taking a dump and a piss in a pot of stew and expecting people to compliment the dumplings…  you either take a bowl or pass…

Jane50/51/52 etc serve no purpose except to substitute for jane49 while jane49 is doing whatever passes for thinking about as / when / if she wants your cock again.

In fact calling it Jane49/50 etc is misleading, better to use mathematical notation  such as N and N+1, so JaneN and JaneN+1 etc… remember it is a fucking jungle out there, and survival of the fittest means the fittest to survive, not those who can do the most reps with 25kilo barbells.

Meanwhile back on the island of the damned once you get your survival shit down pat you get time to kick back and observe, and what you will observe is that it is a jungle out there, JaneN and JaneN+1 are in competition just as red in tooth and claw as anything they were prepared as a species to hand out to you, ape man…

And you can always spot the other ape men, those who have not learned the lessons, on the island of the damned pwincesses, they are the ones cracking jokes like “She asked me to give her nine inches hard and make her bleed, so I fucked her three times and punched her in the nose” and the ones making observations like “so the profile text is full of shit about safe sex and no condoms = no play, and the profile pictures show her being sandwiched by two bareback cocks..” all of which goes down like a lead balloon and cues a storm of wimminz and their pet niggerz dissing him for oppressing other people’s freedom or some such shit, or having an attitude problem.

JaneN and JaneN+1 face a problem a lot like western economists with QE, or outsourcing, or offshoring, or any of the other shit they pull.

It is always a race to the bottom, and it is always a tiger that once you climb on its back you WILL stay there, because you don’t know how to get off and are too scared of the consequences to try.

Just yesterday alone while using the browse function, I came across two profiles that stated “no I will not fuck your dog and then you” or variations upon the theme of bestiality, which is a classic proof of the race to the bottom, obviously enough requests for this are floating around for these two wimminz to feel the need to put that in their profile, and those requests can only come about because there are wimminz with lower SMV who have already offered this to these guys… N & N+1 can only go in one direction.

And let us not forget, what we see here is NOT the depths of depravity, this is arguably the PINNACLE of feminazism, in the swinging scene where the excesses of the pwincesses are not merely tolerated, but celebrated….

……. the magma chamber below the island of depravity hasn’t done much more than pass some gas yet, we are still in reel two of the show, many years ago I told a young woman that the day would come when she would beg for the opportunity to suck some cock in exchange for a dollar burger….

I said it because I remembered some mestizo puta blowing a donkey while some truck drivers stood around drinking beer and laughing, the better the job she did the more coins they threw at her feet, and it was fucking COINS, not notes.

those days are not here, not yet, we haven’t started the third reel, not yet….

…. but… anyone with eyes and a brain only has to look around and see UNSUSTAINABLE write large everywhere, in my city the January sales have materialised, but the shoppers have not, not only are there empty units in prime locations all over the industrial estate, but in the lawyers and solicitors quarter of town there are now empty buildings and offices in the street.

The empty lawyers offices and empty shops in the city centre are more significant than the empty industrial units in the industrial estate in so far as they show how far the rot is progressing.

November 20, 2012

Pause for effect.

I don’t have a job getting paid to be a talking head, this blog was put here because in the Blues sense “it was in there, and it had to come out”

Early on I split it into two sections, the pages which all have links on the right, and the posts which don’t, you have to search or go through the archives.

I did that because the pages were what I needed to say to warn others, and the posts were what I wanted to say to warn others… if you have needs, go straight to the links on the right, if you have time and interest, read through the archive.

But, at the end of the day I am only one man, and there is a severe danger of sounding like a stuck record, I have made all the points I want to make, there are other things that interest me, some of them are even related to the topic of this blog, but they are far enough away from the topic of this blog that they do not have a place here.

For example I have a motorcycle to build a new wiring loom for and to put back on the road, I haven’t ridden it for too many years now, so I can either get up in the morning and fire up the laptop and check out the manosphere and MSM and get fired up and type sit here… or I can get up in the morning and ignore the laptop and the manosphere and MSM and go ghost and fix my bike up.

One thing I have seen is far too many guys, for whatever reason, get a “fuck this” moment with their blog, and not merely walk away, but delete the bastard, which strikes me as very strange and smacks of burning bridges.

What happens if the need to blog raises its head again a few months later?


I am going to take a leave of absence, FROM THIS BLOG, as / if / when I feel the need, I will return.

However, this place will stay here, this was the express reason I chose a word press blog account, it does not require any ongoing actions from me to keep it on-line, may it last as long as geocities… lol



October 31, 2012

Ain’t fattening no more frogs for snakes.

(It means do not put too much effort into improving someone when they could leave, and you will have lost too much of your money, time, and energy/love. The moral is you should find a fat frog to begin with.)

The red pill is a curse, a bit like the toxoplasma gondii brain parasite, once infected, or more accurately once the infection is cleared, you just can’t look at some shit the same way ever again.

Once you rid yourself of the blue pill that tells you to fatten frogs for snakes, well, you just can’t look at some shit the same way ever again. No Sir.

When the wimminz realise that you have given up frog rearing, they will look at you with that peculiar “does not compute” crossed with “waiting for the predator to strike” look, and that shit you either know what I am about from first hand experience or you don’t.

But, once you have swallowed that red pill and had that particular meme / parasite burned from your brain, damn but that shit makes you aloof and philosophical, 100% of wimminz endeavour and 100% of niggerz endeavour, which means 95% of human endeavour, is like watching cows graze, it apparently has purpose, but it is devoid of all sentience.

A couple of PoF chats I have had recently…

Wimminz “I am waiting till I find someone who is my equal!

AfOR “Well I suggest you become a lesbian then.


Wimminz “Why are you so nasty to me when I lust after you so much?

AfOR “Whatever


Thing is, I’m more than willing to date a “fat frog”, but she better have got fat by her own efforts, I am totally unwilling to date skinny frogs that expect me to feed them, or partly fed frogs that got fed by other men, they are pump and dump material, and self made fat frogs are like the proverbial unicorn shit….. in theory there may be some out there somewhere, but scientists have yet to discover them.

Sometimes you think you may have found a potential candidate, but bide your time, chances are she is just holding her breath, blowfish style, or if you are really unlucky, so inflated with toxins she is about to burst.

And so I have become, Zen like, the Restaurant At The End Of The Hypergamy Universe for the wimminz, and they want to come along and choose from the menu of my accumulated wisdom and experience, they want to order scrambled eggs, but they want it without any milk or butter in the ingredients, and free range zero calorie eggs, and by the way I have no money so can I have this on layway where the bills never come due and I can sit here and keep ordering exotic dishes.

So I point them to the sign above the door, “Ain’t fattening no more frogs for snakes” and the sign above the bar “No credit” and the sign over the other door, “Exit

They look at me like I am mad, and gesture around my restaurant at the end of the hypergamy universe, where all the tables are empty, and say but I have NO customers, you have to treat frogs nicely if you want to have customers, so I just smile at them with a well fed predator’s grin and say, “That’s the way I like it baby, this is MY place, and I LIKE IT LIKE THAT

I remember Frank Future, he was delicious.

And so the penny drops, and most of them stomp out of the exit while telling me I have a very small penis and will never get a real woman (thank fuck for that, the plan must be working) and a few of them start to blubber that life just isn’t worth living, so they too stomp out of the exit when I direct them to the funeral parlour 5 doors down… of course, being wimminz, they end up in the massage parlour next door… hey, it was nearer and easier, right…

October 11, 2012


You know the story, guy wakes up with utterly amazing thing in his head, goes to write it down, someone or something interrupts, and it is all gone…. and that is my excuse for why this blog is mainly crap, someone or something keeps interrupting me.

See, here’s the thing, I have seen and heard many people place the blame for their own lack of achievement or greatness on the demands of others, if only I didn’t have a wife and kids and mortgage to support, I could have gone to medical school.

MGTOW however reveals another thing entirely, guys who spend most of their time doing sweet fuck all, sure, they may have half a dozen projects on the go, but none of them are a rush…

… be nice to get the motor-sickle back together and on the road in time for next summer… but that is a sentiment that has been expressed the last three winters, and a couple more won’t hurt…

… mainly the 16 hours of wakefulness each day are filled by doing sweet fuck all of note, but doing it in your own pace and at your own time and in your own way.

Living such a life Coleridge managed to produce three poems of note, a guy called Darwin went on a sea voyage because he was suitable intellectual company for another gentleman (that was his only role, he was not voyage naturalist) etc etc

Yet when we are told about MGTOW’s we are always pointed at workaholics like daVinci and Tesla and Brunel, guys who couldn’t sit still and contemplate the possibility of needing a fart or needing a crap, they’d have to build a machine to take care of both eventualities.

Give up wimminz and suddenly you will have all that free time, in which to be industrious for yourself, and in no time at all you will have a fleet of motorcycles, three cars, a 4×4, a yacht and a speedboat, and apparently no fucking time at all in which to enjoy them, or contemplate needing a fart or a crap…

Is that what the draft pony dreams about? Giving up the company cart to pull just so he can still be a draft pony and pull his own cart, or does he dream about just saying fuckit, throw off the cart and harness, I think I’ll wander over thataway and chew some grass..

Anecdotally and tangentially, PoF is seeing a huge influx in new sign-ups from wimminz in Wales, and as those of you who know anything about UK geography and economics knows, Wales is in many ways the canary in the coal-mine as far as employment goes, as for the wimminz themselves, I’m reminded of an auto maker who is convinced that the answer to the collapse is sales is to re-brand everything with some new badge engineering, take a whole slew of new publicity shots, and start a whole new publicity campaign, this alone will be sufficient to change something from “Boy, you can’t polish a turd” (Christine) to something that sells like Buzz Lightyear the first time around.

The Xanadu interruptions to sedentary navel gazing and lotus eating are not necessarily a bad thing though, the good thing about the sedentary lifestyle is that it IS open to impromptu interruptions, and these interruptions can be interesting and pleasant, in a very Zen kind of way.

One of these interruptions was while writing this, just such a wimminz, but not welsh, we chatted on PoF a few weeks ago and she didn’t seem to me to be making any effort to get in my pants, so I walked away in boredom and ennui…. turns out I was right, as she had another guy in the holding pattern, turns out he wasn’t as good at sex as she was hoping so she pops up again today, and fuck the “long term” in her profile, within 2 minutes she is talking about needing a damn good dirty fuck, can I oblige?

Who knows, it’s a three whorse (sic) race to see who is going to keep my balls drained this weekend, and it may even be that the race will be cancelled by me if don’t just see a clear winner, and that isn’t first past the post a book for definite on X night, but first past the post who also looking like they are desperate and will do anything to win.

That’s the thing with the sedentary MGTOW, because he is quite happy to spend 10 minutes contemplating whether he needs a crap or a fart, quite happy to be having three or four long term no rush at all projects on the go, he is the marketing department’s nightmare…

Trying to get him motivated and eager like an apple fanboi is next to impossible.. “you want me to pay how much? for what? and no new features or ability?” next thing you get is “nah, I’ll pass” and if you keep it up you’ll get “take your products, all of them, stick them up your ass, and fuck off, forever

Passivity is actually an incredibly powerful thing, it is INORDINATELY difficult to get someone riled up or involved in something they literally no longer give a shit about.

Now, we are actually starting to talk, at higher levels of state, around the periphery at least, about the problems caused by the fact that we no longer make anything, we are a service industry run by and for wimminz and niggerz, and everyone else is a single mum on the state teat.

Trying to involve me in this debate is like a load of 3′ tall dwarves who have spent the last 30 years destroying the levees, trying to involve a 6′ tall Zulu in what should be done when the flood waters rise to 40″ high…

Sedentary animals don’t burn a lot of energy, but they are often capable of astonishing feats of physical prowess… wander into the African bush and if you manage to see a big cat without actually also disturbing them, chances are they are lying there half asleep, wondering whether to take a crap or just fart.

A rising tide lifts all boats equally (and as I said before here a falling tide strands all poorly crewed boats equally) but rising floodwaters kill everything that lives underground and can’t swim first, then everything that is very short and can’t swim, then everything that is slow and can’t swim… the red-neck motherfucker on the lilo with a cheap ass polystyrene (floats) cooler full of suds is better equipped that 99.9% of life to survive that flood, he has what he needs, and nothing that he doesn’t need.

Having nothing that I don’t need in my life is why I can live for so little, in monetary terms, so little, in effort terms, so little in stress terms, so little, in giving a shit terms, so little, in involvement in society or people’s problems, so little, in energy expended terms.


Older Posts »

%d bloggers like this: