Wimminz – celebrating skank ho's everywhere

October 5, 2013

Mitch the cunt

Got a mate, his name isn’t really Mitch, but it ain’t a million miles away… he plays the swinging / fucking / dating sites too, though we tend to move in different circles due to the colour of his skin, or more precisely the colour of his cock.

Cunt made me choke on my beer with two little stories he told me.

First one is thanks to tineye, he finds that this chick he picked up via PoF, where she has one kind of profile, also has a profile on a fucking site, which says quite different things, so he says to her how about sticking your tongue up my ring-piece, and she starts acting all horrified and outrages, so he whips out his smart-phone, pulls up her profile on the fucking site, where rimming is listed as one of her interests.. what;s more it turns out that since he saw her last a few days before she has had a verification on the fucking site as the filling in a MMF sandwich.

He said her face ran through expressions like Hauser’s mask in Total Recall

Yeah, and then she blew up, cursed him every name under the sun and threw his black ass out.

So he was back to the grindstone and gets a message from this skank, and he shows me the profile, and it is all about how she fucking hates liars and dishonesty and shit so just be up front with her about what you want yadda yadda yadda, and then it gets to the bit where she mentions in closing that she has a husband who doesn’t know she is on a fucking site so she can’t accommodate and discretion is expected.

And the final line is “no blacks or asians”, and Mitch’s profile has a handle that starts with the word “black” and has three pictures of various parts of his body, all black… cos Mitch ain’t no milk chocolate type nigga, he is proper Nigerian black.

And he says to me, genuinely at a loss, what the fuck was I supposed to say to her? I literally have no fucking words, so I said the first thing that popped into my head that might put her off, I told her my profile was a bit economical with the truth, as he is actually a pre-op black transsexual.

Next thing he knows, she is calling him Master and worshipping him and talking about their future together, and bombarding him with messages and pictures etc, he tells me he is scared to visit that fucking website now. He is only partially joking.

I choke on beer again.

I guess it was a *lot* funnier for me because I know the guy personally and know the back-story etc. etc. etc, for example Mitch knows the whitey skank only wants his black cock because they see him as somewhere between human and animal and that makes their cunt throb, but for his part he only got into fucking white skanks because black skanks were even more mental and poisonous.

Mitch is my “black eye for the white guy” in shades of queer eye for the straight guy, in some areas, he sees shit I didn’t.

My part of the UK you can walk around and see almost no non white faces, I can go into town and back and literally count the non whites on the fingers of one hand, not so in the cities in the rest of the country, so my town is wholly unrepresentative of the nation as a whole and our cities as a whole, which is interesting when it comes to the demographics of the internet, whether it be a dating site or a fucking site, it all goes into the melting pot.

Except it doesn’t. the only black or indeed non white faces you find on a fucking site are men like Mitch, with the odd very rare exception that is female, and again it is count on the fingers of one hand stuff.

On dating sites the trend is not so obvious, but once your eyes are opened to it you can see the disparity.

It’s not to say that black / asian / whatever chicks don’t fuck around etc, they do, AWALT, but they don’t use dating / fucking sites like white skanks…. if you’re puzzling over why, to Mitch it is as obvious as the nose on your face, these sites are all run by whitey, and no it’s not “racis” he says, with a laugh, when the target it whitey.

Mitch has a mate who I have never met, he refers to this guy as the “Nigerian Eskimo“, guy spent a lot of time living and working trucking in the high latitudes of the Americas, mainly based in Edmonton and Calgary, and guys compare notes, and he tells me the Nigerian Eskimo was telling him if you want a truly fucking frightening experience get involved with all the freaks there living the new “poly” lifestyles and constantly updating /r twitter and their blogs…. he said it was like a lot of insane brains kept in jars doing a stream of conciousness vomit 24/7 and he likened it to an infectious mind plague, not the the surreality that you can sometime get if you wake up to 1/10th consciousness in one of your own dreams, but being 100% awake and lucid in and realising that you are living in other people’s collective dreams, with not a hind of conciousness or rationality anywhere…. apparently the Nigerian Eskimo eventually got so freaked by it all that one day back from a run he walked out the the apartment, left the door open, left all his shit apart from clothes and stuff in there, drained his bank, got in the old Caprice and didn’t stop until he got to Yuma, a year later and he found himself in the UK driving night trunking to mainland Europe and back.

Way Mitch tells it, the Nigerian Eskimo got seriously seriously freaked, as in seeing evil spirits and virally infectious memes spreading, they a’comin to get ya, and he (Mitch) used to laugh at this shit, but this last week, Mitch dunno any more, it don’t seem so funny any more.

Got another friend, was in the town he works last week so stopped by for a coffee and a chat, made me realise something, part of why I like my job is I am in a different place every day, almost never see the same site or the same people twice, but what I realised was that it’s been 7 years or more since I was in any kind of gig where I did see the same people every day, and that doesn’t just mean I’d forgotten how that was, it means I haven’t seen the changes the last 7 years have made to that environment either.

This friend is head of IT with this company, and he is talking like the Nigerian Eskimo, he can’t take it no more, it is changing and evolving, no longer what it was, no longer non toxic, no longer sane, no longer conducive to retaining sanity.

Now I have never met the Nigerian Eskimo, but it strikes me that him and this guy are like me and Mitch, on paper we don’t have shit in common, but on the sideband off the carrier where it counts, oh yeah, there’s all kind of stuff going on, plate of shrimp…lol

“It’s in the fucking can, that’s what you don’t understand” (you have to watch it all)

June 20, 2013


When I was growing up there was a certain mentality, it was not pervasive by any means, but it was all around.

This mentality held that there was a connection and commonality between sex and a relationship, they sort of went hand in hand, and if you wanted one you had to have the other as a sort of package deal.

So you had stuff like going steady with a single girlfriend, it wasn’t the marriage the older generation wanted, and if you lived together it was living in sin, but it was still a commitment thing.

If pump and dump one night stands existed, they were very rare one off things, not a lifestyle choice or indeed option. Sure, there was prostitution, but there were only so many whores, and it was a thing men only did when they were away from their home turf.

Sex, you see, was pretty much not available on it’s own, to use the box of chocolates analogy, you had to buy the whole fucking box, including the crap you didn’t like like almond whirls, praline crunch, nougat truffle, to get the mint, strawberry and orange ones you did like.

To use another, perhaps better, analogy, it was like a personal vehicle, that thing that all youth aspired to, their own car or motorsickle.

You could get one, but only if you took lessons, passed the tests, paid the insurance, kept it roadworthy, and obeyed all the laws of the road.

Some tearaway yoofs like me, full of piss and vinegar, immortal and thinking we knew better than anyone else, well, fuck it, build or buy the vehicle, buy the gasoline, as for the rest, that’s for straights… if you are gonna ignore all the speed limits and shit what’s the point wasting time and money on crap like driving lessons and tests and licences and insurance.. right…

Back in those days, the computer was a rare object, everything was done on paper, so there was a lot of slack in the system for people like me/us, we “got away” with shit for years that nowadays would be flagged up in 3 seconds flat by a numberplate recognition system tied into a central database of insured and roadworthy vehicles… even so, some of that shit made it in to the modern records and is still following me around to this day.

The thing was, once you had decoupled personal vehicle ownership from the responsibility to the rest of society that went with it, there was no way back for the individuals concerned… once you have been nailed for no licence / insurance / road-worthiness cert etc, it became so expensive and time consuming to try to go legal, that you simply could not afford it.

Nor would you be able to for many years, at least five.

So a 17 year old asswipe has the option of holding a bus ticket in his hand, (or walking, or using a push-bike for shorter journeys) for five years, or continuing to break the law, and in some areas of the country, such as where I was with literally two buses per week, that also meant no work, which meant no money.

Y’all also have to remember that at these times (and they are a’comin’ back real soon now) if you wanted to buy a bike on HP (hire purchase), the APR was running around 32%.

Even so, once you had fucked up once, you could buy a brand new MHR Ducati 900 desmo for the same money it would cost to insure that old AJS 350 you’d been blatting around on.

So we get into the scene where “capable of evading high speed pursuit” was a pre-requisite, and you routinely had motorcycle cops making comments to you like, “typical biker, the brakes, tyres, and steering are all excellent, but there ain’t another legal thing about you or the bike“…

And so, once fully decoupled from the system, there was no way back in to it, and escalation was the only game in town, and the next thing you know, guys who were, and I shit you not, kicked out of a certain very well known patch motorcycle club for being too wild and out of control, and who then fuck off to start their own truly outlaw club (truly outlaw = nothing was legal, no title, no licence, no roadworthiness certs, no ID, no obeying traffic laws, no nothing) start nodding to you and inviting you to hang out.

Then one day you wake up in the slammer, and the screws remember you from the last visit, and your life stretches out before you, and in my case I was literally out of the country 3 hours after I was released, and did not come back until I had managed to re-invent myself, starting with a clean slate in another country.

I was able to return several years later, not with a clean slate, but with a clean slate for the past several years, and that counted for something…

It was telling that everyone I know who has been banned from driving for being over the limit says the same damn thing, not the fines, not the ban, not the stigma, no the hassle, which is what the campaigns always talked about, but it was the £10k it cost them in lost earnings that struck home, which none of the campaigns talked about.

Sure, *I* was responsible for decoupling myself from the system, but once I had taken that one step, there was no realistic way back… once you make an omelette you can’t get back to a raw egg.Chewable_Smurf_Vitamins_Ad

And so it is with the decoupling of sex and relationshit / commitment.

Unlike the motoring stuff, I did not grow up to breed more motorsickle outlaws on some motorsickle outlaw reservation outside of society and law, yet somehow also within it.

If I had, I dread to think what the little fuckers would be like…

And yet, that is exactly where we are in society with sex.

Sex has been decoupled from relationshit / commitment, as I type this I am getting messages on a fucking site from a 38 year old skank ho single mommy of 3 who wants to be my bitch, for a little while at least, on a purely sexual basis, after 9pm when the eldest is in bed…

Ordinary table salt is NaCl, Sodium and Chlorine, a benign and necessary to support life substance that once split apart becomes two toxic substances, and just mixing them doesn’t make salt again.

Skank ho single mom can’t be mixed with some guy to make the magical nuclear family that is the cornerstone of society… any more than outlaw biker me could be mixed with some uniform Babylon** (**cops) to form a responsible citizen who has seen the light.

If you actually want to address the problem, you have to do two things;

  1. provide a way back once decoupled, and then do whatever it takes to make that happen.
  2. provide a purgatory or cooling off period between being coupled and decoupled, where all parties can really thing about where they actually wanna take that one way leap into the dark.

It’s the old adage, it is easier to break something that repair it, less time effort energy everything.

If nobody works on repairing and maintenance, soon there is nothing left to break.

A quote in the MSM recently said “But we didn’t start the fire, so don’t expect us all to suddenly become firemen…”

Well, I certainly played with matches, but I did not pour gasoline on the flames and then try to bill me for the gas and the cleanup.

In fact in the world of sex as opposed to the world of vehicles, the “legal motorist” is the one being punished, while the outlaws are getting the free ride.

But again, nobody is providing a way back, and nobody is providing a purgatory.

Cupcake calls 999/911 and makes accusations, the blue touchpaper has been lit, no way back, no cooling off period.

Buying a fucking 4.99 phone charger from Amazon comes with more legal protection and cooling off time than making a false allegation of rape against a man.

Sex *can* be re coupled with commitment and relationshits, but it’s a LOT harder and a LOT more expensive than breaking it was, plus, providing a way back for those already decoupled, such as me, is even harder still.

But these are “can”‘s of the sort that an engineer can deal with, we *can* fix the problem, but you have to be prepared to pay the FULL cost.

As a society, we can not financially pay the full cost, the cost would already *far* exceed all the debt we already have, and we cannot pay that, so it is a bit like a plane that almost flies or a boat that almost floats, all we can do is re-arrange the deckchairs on the Titanic.

Trying to “fix” the problem at this stage is rather like trying to impose 1970’s personal vehicle ownership standard and rules in Mogadishu today, you have to fix a million and one other things before you can even begin to start…

IN another forum a poster who goes by the handle of TFH has long said that feminazism is not going to hit the end of the road until 2020 AD, at least, so let’s call it 2030 to be safe.

Once that happens, we can get back to re-coupling, at whatever cost to what passes for society and state then, give it another 20 years for the first children born into that to grow into adults who have known nothing else, so we are looking at 2050 AD as the earliest possible date where things will get back to where they should be, we are talking about MY FUCKING GRAND-CHILDREN, even though my abducted and absent boys are still in short trousers, THEY will never see it until they are older than me, and it will be too late for them, but their kids may see it.

So, EVERY SINGLE CUNT READING THIS, you are in the place I was when I woke up in the slammer one day and had a reality check, you have two options.

  1. stay where you are, stay who you are, and get doubled down on from uniform Babylon on down.
  2. go far enough away so you can get some breathing space and re-invent yourself.

It is adapt, or die.

Fucking off to Bangkok and trying to preserve any part of who you are now is a waste of time and effort, you may as well stay exactly where you are, you have to metamorphose into something completely different.

You have to go as a blue pill motherfucker Smurf.smurf-control

You have to kill that fucker stone dead and emerge from the chrysalis as a red pill lone wolf tin man motherfucker with a hole where his heart used to be.

It’s not romantic, it’s not laudable, it’s not manly, it’s not heroic, it’s not worthy, it is not anything more or less than survival.

If you have ideas of Beau Geste, or how other’s will look up to you or respect you, or any other bullshit, fuhgeddabahtit

This isn’t about going off on some initiation ceremony / rite of passage where you come back new and improved and a MAN, who gets the girl etc.

This is about moving to the jungle and undergoing genetic manipulation until you become a flesh eating reptile like a salt water croc.

The new croc you ain’t gonna want ANYTHING you had in your old life, it is no use to him.

He’s just waiting for the corpses to float downstream from the cities.


February 25, 2012

The Evil Penis lives, and throbs, and other stories

Yes, The Evil Penis is alive and well, despite neglecting his blog… the guy is clearly too busy playing rumpy pumpy with Turkish tarts to get down to the serious business of blogging…

Which brings me to “If all brides are beautiful, where the fuck do ugly wives come from?

Not a million miles from the Evil Penis, but around 2,000 km nor’nor’east, lies a dump called Kazan, it is in the Republic of Tartarstan, in Russia.

I mention it mainly because in going through my electronic files of old digital photos and video, old girlfriends, that sort of thing, I came across these pictures, for the sake of this article we will call her Lyudmila, that isn’t her real name, but as we shall see shortly, its more accurate than her real name, because it is closer to Lyudmila Kazantseva, who is a fairly well known Russian dating scammer

So back to “my” Lyud… has to be said, she was not a bad looking bitch, she was 28 in these pics… and hey, here is her mum, who was 47…

I should state for the record that I never gave this girl a single red cent, and for the purposes of this post you can just assume that during my initial nuclear separation from the psycho skank ho ex when I *did* have protection orders / injunctions prohibiting me from approaching the ex, it made a lot of sense to take a 3 months contract abroad innit….

Thing is, when you come from bum-fuck-nowhere and the summer gets as high as the mid 30’s C and the winter gets as low as the mid MINUS 30’s C, and perhaps most importantly when you come from a country where they are 20 to 30 years AHEAD of us in the west when it comes to the systematic destruction of the family… one of your career options certainly does include all paths that lead down to 419 and similar scams.

Dating scams are a form of 419 as far as I can see, “..yes I vould love to marry you dahlink, I just do not have ze munnay for ze airplane ticket…”

So yeah, as far as “my” Lyud was concerned no local man, of any age, was in the least bit interested in her for anything except pump and dump, or a life of domestic drudgery and child rearing and doorstep polishing, snow clearing, you get the picture.

That of course is because all the local men were also 20 to 30 years ahead of us in time served in feminaziland… there was some THIRD generation shit going down there… and I do ***NOT*** say this out of sympathy, I am **JUST** highlighting the point here… Lyud here was a fine looking girl, and she still could not find a man to do anything but pump and dump.

The point that I AM trying to make is that for third generation feminazi bitches like Lyud here, the opportunities within 1,000 km were piss poor, and I mean ALL opportunities, not just work or love or marriage opportunities.

Fortunately for Lyud here and her friends, with the advent of that male built technology, the internet, and Western Union, it was possible for them to indulge in a little e-commerce, but even back then it was getting a bit thin as all the men were starting to wise up… at that time the last lucrative market left was North America.

As it was a home grown market was set up, wimminz feeding off these wimminz, offering to provide mailbox, translation, gift services etc, then evolving into a sort of white-pages / gateway themselves, a lot like (in business model terms) the sex chat lines here in the west.

I suppose by now things have gotten tougher, and Lyud has gotten a couple of years older and less hot, and the economy in general in Tartarstan has gone the way of economies everywhere, which brings me in to the point where I came in…

Lyud here, back then, she still had some of those looks, her mum was apparently a looker in her day too, and of course the wimminz just LOVE to say that shit, how they were a looker themselves back in the day…

Dimitri, ran the local bar / cafe, and in one of those cases where broken pidgin English carries more meaning and sentiment than fluent native speaking, Dimitri dropped a gold plated turd on to the table.

Dimitri before, very rich man.

Lyud’s mum saying she used to be good looking is like Dimitri saying he used to be rich, that and a dollar will get you a cup of coffee.

But Dimitri’s real point wasn’t that he used to be rich, and was now broke, his real point was that back when he had money, back when he was rich, back when he could have used that money wisely, he just used it up like a god given right that would never end…

… and the turd he dropped on the table was that Lyud’s mum might have been hot once, but she just used it up like a god given right instead of using it wisely and investing it in getting a good man and building a marriage strong enough to survive ….

and as for her daughter Lyud, monkey see, monkey do, mommy has taught her little skank ho too well….

I was at a time in my life where little Lyud could have done a damn sight more than empty my balls, she could have gotten her hooks into me, after burning all her bridges and rejecting the feminazi life she had… but she just could not bring herself to do it… the fairytale was more important to her, the possibility of a future jackpot, a future lottery win, no matter how remote and improbable, the lure of that was more than the very fat bird sat right there for the plucking.

You know, the fable about the scorpion and the frog.

So back to the Evil Penis, I’m guessing he isn’t doing anything much in a hurry, and that is good, because that is how you always beat the wimminz, just sit there and relax, like the scorpion, the wimminz will sooner or later always reveal their true nature… they just cannot help it… AWALT.

ya blue bus*** indeed Lyud, sayonara babe… lol

*** more or less phonetic “love ya babe” in russ…

February 9, 2012

Rinse and repeat your brain

This follows on from a series of long phone calls with a mate on the whole subject of wimminz and PoF and indeed us and sexual drives / desires / needs.

Learn the following FACTS;

  1. Failing to “pull” a specific woman is not a failure on your part.
  2. Failing to get a great response generally is not a failure on your part.
  3. Failing at the same point with the same stated or guessed reasons for rejection is not a failure on your part.

Fact 1.

We will pick an imaginary PoF profile and call her “SlutA”, you have sent your quick and mass produced copied and pasted opening lines, you get no response, or you get a lukewarm response that dries up after three or four messages back and forwards.

Fuck it, walk away, there is no mileage wasting another second on the skank ho, she clearly expects Craptain Save a Ho to pop along any minute, so she isn’t even worthy as a pump and dump, no matter how hot the body….

You are in REAL danger of letting the porno factor take control, the bit where you got NOTHING but a crappy picture, and your brain starts adding details that are not there, and before you know it your cock is throbbing for the hot slut…

So take the hint, walk away.

Fact 2.

If the same thing as Fact 1 seems to be a regular occurrence, well, what the fuck did you expect dude, have you not read a single word I have written, AWALT, or you think maybe PoF is a hidden treasure trove of sexually deprived hot cunt throbbing and desperate for your cock.

Did you not read the things I wrote about HAVING to play the numbers, production line style, it is an industrial process, not a fucking treasure hunt.

Did you not understand the implications of AWALT? What the fuck is your “keeper” woman doing on PoF??? No woman gets on PoF without having sucked a hundred yards of cock and still failed to get and hold on to a man, so what are the chances of you finding anything other than a pump and dump in there?

Fact 3.

If the same thing as Fact 2 seems to be a regular occurrence, and it always happens around about the same point, when you send your pic, when you speak on the phone, when you reveal what you drive, then yeah dude, it probably is how you look, how you sound, or what you drive that put the bitch off, and you know what, you lucked out because another psycho skank ho eliminated herself from the pleasure of your company, and she did it before you spent one red cent.


Which brings us to what prompted these phone calls and worries from my mate, which is that he has had a long dry spell on PoF, and by long dry spell I mean 1 new skank fuck so far this year, and one old standby that is available but which he doesn’t fancy much.

I told him, shrugs, these things go in cycles, besides, you know what date it is?

And he says 4th Feb because these chats started a week ago, and I ask him what date is coming, and he says uuuh?

I tell him, Feb 14th, Valentines day.. the wimminz are all in extreme hamster wheel psycho stage looking for romance that ain’t there, I told him, thank your lucky stars you aren’t doing “well” on PoF, because at the moment the wimminz only want the sucker who will buy the flowers and chocolates, so look at the money you are saving, and come the end of the month, it will be back to normal, spring coming, sap rising, summer on the horizon and some cock needed to ride, but now still makes excellent practice times, so get on PoF mate, don’t worry about the conversion rate, just enjoy yourself.

January 30, 2012

Home truths

Here are some home truths, you may not like all of them, you may not have heard of them, you may not be old enough to have come across them, but the chances are that it is just a question of enough time having to pass before you find out for yourself.

  1. Your sense of smell, it is an amazing thing, you may not be a dog but it is far more sensitive than most humans give credit for, unfortunately if you are a smoker (I should know, I used to smoke) you are killing this sense, so there will be a whole raft of smells that you will be unaware of, here are some of them;
    1. Old cunt, by old cunt I mean no longer fertile, it has a definitive smell, like all smells, very hard to describe, but you non smoking guys that have fucked old cunt will know what I mean, it is a faintly unpleasant smell, and if you ignore this signal and fuck it the unpleasant “musk” smell gets far stronger, and in me at least is raises and instinctive need to vacate the premises, pronto, cue the Android app Fake Call Me…. it is nature’s way of telling you to stop wasting that sperm.
    2. Fertile cunt, at certain times of the month, there is some chemical trigger that smells identical to one of the chemicals given off by curing / drying silicone caulk as used by builders and glaziers, I don’t know what it is chemical wise, but if you have sniffed silicone and done it from behind you will have noted the same smell.
    3. Fecal fat slut breath, all obese bitches, their breath smells faintly, or not so faintly, of fecal matter, and the fatter they are the stronger the smell of shit from their breath.
  2. Reasons why she could only send you a tit or whatever pic, whatever reasons you are given, there is only ever one true reason, and that is that (in her opinion) the pics she has sent you show her off in a good light, and the pics she has not sent you will show her in a bad light, so you will get a pic of a very nice looking tit, and no pictures of the gut or ass or bladdered cunt below it.
  3. Wimminz are all delusional, both about their own attractiveness and their abilities, eg blowjob skills. I mean really, totally, utterly delusional, on the same scale as me claiming I had elite jet fighter pilot skills, and this is paired with #4 below, is no guy ever bothered to tell the skank ho the fucking truth, there is NO upside to telling a wimminz the truth about her skills or abilities or attractiveness, not unless you really desperately desire to experience being the target of a false accusation of rape first hand, so in a wimminz mind the lack of people calling on her constant claims of being an elite jet fighter pilot and blow-jobber equates to these things being true.
  4. Wimminz and their lies, it is complex, but sooner or later it will come to you, you are just the latest in a long series of guys who turned up, discovered that the reality did not match the advert, decided to pump and dump real fast, not even overnight, just pump and dump and GTFO, just like all the other guys she complained about who said all sorts and then pumped and dumped her, so I will be yet another of those guys that “lied to her about not wanting a pump and dump” while a total disconnect exists between this and the truth, which is that it was the vast chasm between the advertised goods and the actual goods that caused me to pump and dump and GTFO with Fake Call Me 15 minutes later, instead of staying the night.
  5. There are no sexually attractive 50+ year old wimminz, not when you actually get them naked and into bed, there is nothing there for your COCK, which is interested in REPRODUCTION, to get hard for, and so the only game in town is kinky sex, and even that is a limited game that only a few 50+ year olds can play, very very limited, one trick pony shit… but until you bang your first 50 year old, and it really doesn’t make any difference if she is smoking for FOR a 50 year old who looks after herself and on the street looks and acts and could pass for 38 and all the rest of it, actually fucking the wimminz is teh (sic) beauty equivalent of tipping a bucket of water over their heads, if you want to know how beautiful a wimminz really is, tip a bucket of water over her head, if you want to know how sexually attractive a wimminz really is, look at her 3 minutes after you just dumped a load into her cunt. No 50+ year old will make your cock throb all by itself…. this whole subject about the rapid collapse of female sexual attractiveness as soon as nature is through with their womb is something you just do not grasp until you see and start fucking the older wimminz….
  6. Cunt“, never fail to use this word when talking about cunt with wimminz, it is acceptable for wimminz to be shy when first conversing, and using words like pussy to talk about cunt, you should immediately show the wimminz your class by using the word cunt, thus allowing the wimminz to relax and call a cunt a cunt, or to demonstrate real early that as far as you are concerned she is psycho and totally unfuckable, ever, under any circumstances, because she objects to calling a cunt a cunt and objects to the word cunt…. this is the easiest, cheapest and fastest shit test you can give a wimminz, so give it to every wimminz you meet, real early on…. REAL early on…
  7. PoF and shit, “there are no decent / sexy / nice wimminz on PoF“, yeah, this is true, because there are no nice / sexy / decent wimminz any fucking where, AWALT, fucking penny dropping yet? …..what there is, is young firm flesh, and it comes with an attitude of its own, and problems, and all the usual crap….. now and again you will find a wimminz who has used up the young firm flesh, ain’t good looking at all, but knows it, and makes a realistic decision that any guy who doesn’t drink / gamble / whore / beat her to excess is as good as it is ever going to get, and if she can find one who is half decent then do whatever it takes for as long as it takes to hang on to him, because the alternative is a succession of pump and dump cock every weekend until she hits 50 and then it is cats and the true romance channel until she croaks.
  8. Lose your pride, that fugly slut skank you pumped and dumped and GTFO yesterday, don’t get upset when she texts you saying she don’t think you’re the right man for her, so so long and thanks for all the semen… don’t get that SHE dumped ME!!!! shit in your head, that is all so much bullshit….. the home truth you will learn is YOU JUST GOT THE PERFECT RESULT, an out, and a written proof against future allegations, and you never had to even lift a single finger to text.

December 18, 2011

Sluts, slags and slaves

I guess this was partly prompted by a comment on another article about the wimminz on PoF, and partly by events in my own life, but however we got here, we got here, so let us get on with it.

PoF is as far as I can determine the proverbial canary in the coalmine for the wimminz, because it is the biggest truly free dating site on the planet, in the same way that your local free ads newspaper was the canary in the coal mine for what your second-hand car was actually worth.

Time was you had an old Ford and the local free ads newspaper had very similar cars listed for 500 notes, you wanted 850, it wasn’t worth 850, but you wanted 850 to go towards another piece of junk, so what did you do?

You washed and waxed it, cleaned the interior, parked it in front of somewhere nice, took some flattering pictures, paid some money over and stuck it on the Autotrader website for 850 notes.

That is the “high-end” of the market, so likewise to pay for dating sites are the “high-end” where the cunt has been washed and waxed and propped in front of somewhere interesting and a flattering photo taken and an unrealistic but hopeful if a mug comes along ticket pice is put up… oh yeah, one careful owner, never ridden hard…lol

PoF is more the local free ads, not so much the “low-end” of the market, just the realistic end, Parkers guide, trade price on that used cunt.

You can kick the tyres, have a test drive, the lies about number of previous owners are half-hearted at best, you can have a good look and see what is beneath the wash and wax and have a look in the real world, no fancy backdrop, fancy lenses or fancy angles.

They may be asking 850 for the old clunker, but you and the seller both know the rag is littered with similar rides from 450 on down to free to a good home…. as soon as the seller realises you are not the misty eyed young mug with a pocket full of cash and no experience…

Bottom line is the wimminz has the profile on PoF, she is desperate to sell, because PoF is the free ads, gone are the days when she was eligible for the fancy dealer showroom on the turntable in the plate-glass window with 0 miles / cocks on the clock.

Gone are the days when it was worth a significant fraction of the new price as a trade in or “slightly used“.

Gone are the days when it was possibly worth spending even more money on accessories and maintenance and upkeep.

Gone are the days when she had that “new car” feel and smell, and the sense that you could run hard and fast all day without blowing the motor.

In fact the cunt / car analogy is so good….. that if you take the age of puberty or legal consent as being zero and treat everything before that as design, manufacture, shipping and delivery to the showroom, so the 16-year-old virgin and the 6 month old BMW are both sat there with the clock sat at ZERO, and it only starts ticking when the car is bought or the girl is fucked, it gets to be a very very good analogy indeed.

My car is currently 20 and a bit years old, so to a wimminz that would equal 20 + 16 = a 36-year-old wimminz.

I drive a classic german diesel, it was horrendously expensive when new, literally one of the last ones made where everything under the bonnet was all precision mechanical engineering with nary a computer chip in sight, and a combination of luck and a handful of conscientious owners means it / she drives today better than most new cars with 0 miles on the clock.

And yet, the cash value of my car, despite the quality of the ride, despite the class, despite the reliability, despite the comfort, despite the security, despite the safety, despite the status, despite the handful of careful owners, is basically the old clunker value, because nothing takes away from the fact that it is, after all, a fucking twenty year old car, or in wimminz terms a 36-year-old…. it doesn’t matter how classy and refined and cared for and how few owners, at 36, that wimminz is an old clunker.

THIS is the Wil-e-coyote moment, when the wimminz realise that no matter how much they looked after themselves, no matter how few cocks they rode or how few kids they had, they are the equivalent of a 20 year old car.

So lets take my analogy further, a 20 year old girl, been on the sexual market for 4 years in theory, 6 in practice, 3 kids by 3 fathers, drinks, smokes, cheap ass DIY tattoos, rough as fuck. Subtract 16 fro 20 to get 4, but this is a 4 year old car that was bought as a taxi, and has been a taxi, three 8 hour shifts a day, in the city.

So we have one equivalet 20 year old car, and one equivalent 4 year old car, with the same “market value“, eg not a fucking lot, clunker territory.

Even the new car / young flesh can incredibly quickly become corrupted, but no matter what, not many years have to pass before the once proud new car is either someone’s slut, slag, or slave…. there are no other choices in a buyers market.

The wimminz on PoF broadly fall into two categories, those who realise and accept that they can be my slut, slag or slave, and those who do not, those who still think they can get 7,995 for that 20 year old clunker.

As the economic crises unravels and times get harder, that moment of truth is hitting more and more wimminz, and indeed the influx of the real rode hard and hung up wet fugly wimminz devalues the net worth of ALL wimminz on PoF.

Sure, you may only have had 30 cocks to her 300, you may only have had 1 kid to her 5, you may only have had 5 cheezeburgers to her 500, but put all that together and it only makes a small pile of beans, because she will do anything for free and pay for my room and coffee and diesel, so why would anyone pay you…. even 1 red cent.

When I have (and I do) women who are literally putting their hands in their own pockets and booking hotel rooms so that they can be my own personal slut / slag / slave for the night, and I am talking no holds barred kink, no mere ass to mouth, but bitches that will call me “master” and lick my asshole clean, and thank me for permission to do so, you just have to realise that to BEAT that a wimminz has to play every card she has, and play them cheaply and up front.

And if you think that all I can possibly be doing is fucking hideous skanky fat ho’s that nobody else wants to fuck, then you haven’t been paying attention, this is MALE HYPERGAMY at work, with every new wimminz that joins PoF the value of individual wimminz decreases, and I trade up, week by week by week.

So what’s it going to be girls, slut, slag or slave?

October 23, 2011

The unravelling of an attitude.

This post is essentially going to be two things, one of which is the third in the series commenting upon the change in wimminz attitudes as the economy founders, and the other thing is going to be a shotgun or random related stuff.

Clearly, since I am not a wimminz, I do not wake up every morning and believe that I am more beautiful, more sexy, more entitled than I was when I went to sleep the night before.

Being a man (of thankfully good genetic heritage) I wake up every morning, take a piss, light up a cigarette and sup my first coffee of the day, and some days something happens that causes me to remark to myself that I have just learned something new or added one more small piece to a puzzle. I do have people (of both sexes) mistakenly taking me for someone between 10 and 15 years younger than my actual age fairly regularly, but this is still putting me at late thirties as a minimum, an age at which for much of human history you were probably going to be considered “old age“. Of course the other thing that is most unusual about the last century of so of human history, is one of the side effects of science and technology and wealth creation, which is men marrying wimminz of basically the same age.

I have mentioned previously that my PoF production line has been showing a spike in wimminz nearer my own age opening the conversation with a willingness to be my kinky no-holds barred submissive slut, dropping all pretence of ladylike refinement or respectable demeanour, and a spike in the younger wimminz being more interested in a man my age than they were (remember, my PoF profile has no picture, so the first impression the wimminz get is the one they paint in their own head when they see “age 51”) only a season or so ago.

This last week has seen a serious spike in this, sure, it could be no more than a statistical anomaly, but it doesn’t feel like one, it feels much more like negotiating with people who suddenly realise that the balance of power has shifted, ironically towards a more patriarchal society and away from the matriarchal misandric society that all the feminazis are still screechingly claiming is a patriarchy.

It feels like this partly because of subtle shifts in the language used in the dating negotiations, and partly because of the quality and therefore self respect of the wimminz entering the arena lately, and pushing aside all the “rode hard and hung up wet” types that infested PoF as little as 6 months ago.

Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t buy this new negotiating language and new proposals and terms as being any more truthful or valuable than the stuff the wimminz were saying six months ago, but I do note the change, and I do note the fact that had these slightly better quality wimminz come to me with this approach and attitude 12 months ago it would have been met with slightly more than mere cynicism by me…. I would have acknowledged that they were at least making an effort to stand out from the herd BEFORE the fucking lions started stalking.

How much of a shift are we talking about?

Well, a 27 year old single mum, with her own home, and no, that doesn’t mean a mortgage she can’t pay, it means her own home, with a classical education and good relations with her traditional nuclear family, in actual fact quite easy on the eye and totally devoid of all the wimminz usual warpaint and accesorising and such, spending the last two weeks ramping up her campaign to convince me, a 51 year old man (albeit a well preserved one) to take her under my wing.

Yeah, she is still a skank ho single mum to bastard kids, she is still by nature of being a wimminz a filthy lying whore, but damn me if she isn’t making a fucking good effort, and I don’t just mean “I’ll be your own personal whore” shit, but the whole 1950’s housewife shebang about honouring and respecting and obeying the older and wiser man in your life.

Yeah, it may have no more meaning or import than an actor reading a script on stage, but fuck me, this is a play that has not been performed since the 80’s, and when the feminazis heckle this bitch (for hanging out with a “viagra daddy”) she certainly plays the part of someone fighting for one of the last seats on one of the last boats off the island before it sinks beneath the waves, with enough aplomb to deserve a very small round of applause.

And then she whips out the world smallest violin and plays a tune on it for these other feminazi skank ho wimminz who are “rode hard and hung up wet” for their self inflicted rapidly vanishing worth on the meat market, and I laugh out loud, because by now the feminazi skank ho wimminz reveal their true demonic nature and pour vile hatred upon the younger, fresher, and more pleasant sounding competition.

What I find fascinating here is that even if this young flesh only 5% believes the script she is reading to me, I have to do nothing, economic events alone will serve to make that script ever more credible to her, which will ensure her sustained and if anything increased effort, it is almost delicious enough to start taking long term bets on.

I mention the bets because the REASON men always tried to make marriages work for their families was the sheer amount of effort that men put into said families, and the REASON the wimminz were so quick to throw the man under the wheels of the nearest Family Court or Police Cell was because they put no effort into it, all they had to do was turn up at the party.

Now if things are, as they seem to be, going the other way, if this young wimminz is the one making all the effort into having a relationship with a man 24 years older than her, while the man does sweet fuck all except turn up to the party, then we have what is known as a role reversal.

Of course what will trump being a 27 year old skank ho single mum with bastard kids and a newly learned 1950’s housewife attitude in say 2013, is being an 18 year old virgin with 1950’s housewife attitudes in 2013….

Were I to take said 27 year old skank mummy on, pump and pump instead of pump and dump, come 2013 she is going to have a full time job, on the one hand convincing me that “a bird in the hand” applies to her versus her competition, and argument that has some merit if she plays the “I saw the writing on the wall first, and I chose you first, to be my lord and protector” argument, and on the other hand against the less competitive skanks, who will offer harem status…. e.g. be lord and master of three of us.

Now, getting back to the older skanks, but the newer to the scene type mentioned above, they no longer have the young flesh or fertile wombs to offer, so they are getting in with an opening bid of submissive kinky sex, and literally stating that their advantage over their peers is that they still get horny and dripping wet at the drop of a hat, or their master’s command.

Meanwhile the “rode hard and put up wet” types seem to be splitting in to two camps, those for whom the anger at whatever finally bursts through, with the realisation that sex is now going to consist of smearing fish paste on their cunts for their cats to lick off, and those for whom the thousand yard stare and stunned oblivion is the response, you can insult the living fuck out of them and tell them to send any fuckable female friends they have your way, and their response is to call you a friend… I shit you not.

Meanwhile back in the real MSM world, expect a massive resurgence of shit like “You gotta have a J O B if you wanna be with me…. ain’t nothing goin on but the rent” (Gwen Guthrie) and such crap… but moreso, because the late 10’s and the early 20’s are going to make the 30’s look like the fucking 80’s.

Now in the seventies I was the bad boy biker with the cash and the flash and the connections, and more cunt than I knew what to do with, and in the eighties I was the rich foreigner with the cash and the flash and the connections, and more cunt than I knew what to do with, the nineties were nowhere near as good cunt wise, I got enough but can’t say I ever had more than I knew what to do with, the noughties frankly I pretty much pissed away and fucked up, I think I fucked a total of 5 wimminz including my FRA psycho skank ho ex, and two of those five were mother and daughter, now the ten’s are here I am back to bad boy, serious bad reputation (rapist wife beater) but being strictly honest about things fuck all money, fuck all flash, and few connections of note, yet I am rapidly getting back to more cunt than I can handle.

What is different is since my FRA I keep detailed electronic records, so I can tell you exactly how many wimminz I have fucked in any given time period, so far in 2011 I have pumped and pumped and pumped and eventually dumped 15, and pumped and dumped (anything from a handjob through a quickie in a parked car to an overnight, but never gone back for more) an astonishing 63… if you’d asked me to guess the number I would have shrugged and said “maybe 20” and not really thought about it.

What is different is the sheer fucking numbers of 35/40+ year old separated skank ho wimminz on the market, it is a fucking epidemic and you can’t attribute my conversion rate to “teh interwebs” and dating sites like PoF coming into existence, at best that probably counters the fact that I am now 51, going bald on top, stony broke and have some shit accusations following me around like a bad smell.

Plus I find myself wondering at the connection, because basically all these skanky ho’s on PoF in their 40’s have been on the pill for 25 years, and smearing themselves with chemicals externally for 25 years (hence the poor skin) and eating processed food for 25 years, and not fucking working physically for 25 years thanks to electronic household labour saving appliances.

Correlation is not causation, but there are a fuck lot of correlations, and now I am starting to wonder if the wheels coming off the wagons of the western economies and 27 year old skanks pursuing 51 year old Men is just another correlation, or maybe there is a connection there somewhere….. because if there is that long term bet I mentioned earlier gets even more interesting.

September 6, 2011

Hitting the targets.

I’m returning to the Internet Dating theme again, and Plenty of Fish which is my chosen hunting ground.

Today I had a couple of production line skanks flake, one kinda come through but I expect she’ll flake, and one that I only started work on yesterday come through.

The interesting thing about the one that came through and wants twice a week fuckuddies is the bottom of her profile said this, and this only…

Must not be looking for Other Relationship
Must not be looking for Intimate Encounter

Now I know a lot of guys couldn’t get their cock in a cunt even if it had a target painted on it, and I have talked before about using sales type language like “conversion rates” on the wimminz Internet Dating, but the fact is that the dating market is like any other market such as double glazing sales, it varies over time with market conditions.

If it is overcast and pissing down with rain every day you are going to sell fuck all solar photo-voltaic power installations, quite apart from seasonal trends and factors such as subsidies and costs per kWH of mains all affecting the market, and the fact is it is no different with Internet Dating.

Yes, you are selling the same product every day, but you adapt to market conditions and variations by rebranding it every single day and tailoring it subtly to every single customer, eg while the broad strokes of what works on skank ho #1 will work on skank ho #2 for the initial warm up, to make the sale you have the tailor the fine details, and this will vary from skank ho #1 to skank ho #2

What I have seen lately with the spreading economic unrest is a change in what the wimminz are seeking, and a change in what they are offering… make no mistake, this is an instictive response by the wimminz, but it is also a rapid response and very much a smart adaptation to changing conditions.

To give you one concrete example, there is one skank ho on PoF that ain’t bad looking, good body, not a bad face, aged well for mid thirties and quite well presented, way too much of a stuck up bitch for yours truly to waste time on, but physically it is all there, a definite 7+.

This bitch is a property / real estate valuer, and of course the property market is about to tank big time, so whereas a week ago her profile was all about how hip and exciting she was and showed a profile pic of her holding a bottle of champers and partying like it is 1999, she has re-written her profile, suddenly she is looking not for a hooray henry to pay her bar and coke bill, but a nice and dependable man, and oh, the cocktail dress profile pictures have gone, to be replaced with the beach top showing off some very nice natural tits to within a millimetre of the aureolae.

Incidentally if you have an interest in the decline of the UK property market, go to http://www.propertysnake.co.uk/ and have a gander… currently the front page shows properties with asking prices reduced between 50 and 58 percent, just enter your postcode to see the top droppers in your area.

She, like all wimminz, is finely tuned to changes in the market… lol

I can tell you now, and have a very large degree of accuracy, that wimminz with secure homes, eg hubby died well insured, are still looking for casual friends with benefits, but all the other wimminz in less secure accomodations previously looking for friends with benefits or fuckbuddies have all just about vanished in the past two weeks…. now they are looking for long term relationships.

I can tell you that all the ones living in the house they got the ex kicked out of and living off the child support payments, which is all the ones with big hoopy ear-rings and a fucking attitude problem, still have a fucking attitude problem and are completely delusional, but they too sense a storm on the horizon because suddenly none of them want to get into long exchanges of emails and texts, they want to meet quickly and decide…. grab a chair before the music stops.

I can tell you that all the eternally single moms who have some negative trait such as a slight facial birthmark or squinty eye or big nose, are suddenly open to any kind of kinky sex you like and will be professing love within 24 hours and asking you to move in within 72.

I can tell you that suddenly (I have been fucking for 35 years, my fucking style hasn’t changed worth a damn in the past month) all the wimminz are genuinely having a lot more orgasms, being a lot more vocal, and being a lot more complimentary, and I do not mean the tired old “you’re the best” shit but new shit like “it isn’t fair I get to cum so much and you only cum two or three times“… in the seventies you heard that shit but it was a hard recession, and in the eighties you only heard that shit from some skank if she was about to ask you to marry her, and in the nineties you never heard it, nor in the noughties, now suddenly it is back….

I can tell you that suddenly all the bitches are dieting properly and going to the gym to do a proper workout…. no more is the “does my ass look big in this” shit, where you were expected to say no anyway, now they are all “I am dieting and working out and I know I am not there yet but I will get there to please you“….. WTF….

I can tell you that the subject of you perhaps having a roving eye or a roving cock has vanished like a factory job, it just isn’t mentioned at all, even if you are only spending one night a week at her place and she can see you on PoF the other six days a week, not a fucking word is said.

I can tell you that where it used to take about three or four her / you / her responses in a chat to get from strong woman who denies and refuses any possibility of submissive kinky sex and bondage to meek bitch who agrees, it now takes one, sometimes two….

I can tell you that my rather basic and brutal attitude to dating, which on the 0 to 10 scale of hotness used to bring in a mixed bag ranging from 2 to 7, is now producing a mixed bag ranging from 4 to 7, and the average age has dropped a year or two as well.

August 20, 2011

Internet dating update

Filed under: Wimminz — Tags: , , , , , , , , — wimminz @ 12:45 pm

The wheels on the bus go round and round… till they fall off.

You can tell that we really are heading into tough times economically when the profiles of wimminz on internet dating sites like PoF (Plenty of Fish) start changing.

Whereas a few months ago all the wimminz were looking for a “sole mate(sic) or a man with a “sence of humour(sic) to complement their jobs as “secritary(sic) etc etc, nowadays an increasing proportion of profiles are looking for a “solvent” or “generous” man, and there are quite a few profiles from 20 year old students looking for older, generous, men.

Basically, these wimminz have seen which way the wind is blowing economically, and their inner whore has popped to the surface, up front and centre, main billing, in the spotlight.

The rest of the wimminz are also much more open about their skank nature, whereas a few months ago they would have been quite upset at me playing the field, nowadays conversations go like this;

Skank ho “So I suppose you were fucking someone else when you were too busy to come over here on Monday?

Me “Why do you ask the question when you think you know the answer and you are all right with it anyway, or you would not be sat there now with a wet cunt?

Skank ho “You’re such a bastard.

Me “That would be ‘You are such a bastard Sir!

Skank ho “mumumumumum” as she gobbles my cock.

If you think the above conversation is fictitious, think again… these wimminz, like the “must be solvent” skanks, realise that the name of the game is out competing and out-fucking the other wimminz I am, or may be, fucking, and as long as I neither confirm nor deny their fears, but play on them, they have no information to judge how far they have to double down on being a filthy obedient slut in order to win the prize and keep me.

This second group of skanks are smarter and more in tune with their animal natures than the ones in the first group suddenly seeking men with money / jobs / spare income to pad their own financial demise… the second group of skanks are channeling the cave-skank culture, ug, need man to own and protect me, ug.

They are right.

Own and protect does not mean looking for some guy who is a cross between the Incredible Hulk and Bruce Lee, able to take on all comers and kick ass, own and protect just means some guy who is smarter than them, and able to make daily decisions on the spot that are better than the ones they would have made, eg anyone but a wimminz or a niggerz, eg an old fashioned unreconstructed Man.

I have been watching this emerging trend for a few months now, and have been taking extreme care to make sure it is not just a seasonal variation, or my improving skillz, or any other variable, but that it is instead a real and genuine trend, and I have refrained from saying anything about it until I was sure one way or another, but the fact is I can no longer deny it.

It has been at least four weeks since the last PoF skank blanked me for refusing to confirm or deny that I was and would continue to fuck other wimminz while fucking her. Prior to that the proportion who did was trailing off.

I have also noticed something else subtly changing, the number of women willing to entertain, or even opening the subject, of threesomes, and not the traditional man + skank ho slut + skank ho slut, or MMF threesome, but the triangle, me, skank ho slut ideal for taking to swinging parties, and skank who probably had 5 men or less in her life, probably with 1 kid, reasonably nice and respectable, no tattoos or piercings, as in both these different types of wimminz appreciate that neither of them alone has enough to offer a man, but between them they do, and perhaps they both win by making that accommodation to their previous wish list…

When you compare wimminz and men, you can make an analogy to an instrument that measures wind direction and speed… the male version is damped and adjusted, and always shows the average over the past minute or so, and is relatively immune to transient gusts and eddies from different directions, whereas the wimminz version measures instantaneous gusts and eddies only, so the readings are accurate and all over the place, and instantly out of date…. you’re better off watching the smoke rise from a fire.

This is the true nature of wimminz much vaunted “sensitivity“, it can be useful as an early warning or early detection system, provided a man interprets the data, wimminz sensitivity can be useful in times where the food or drinking water is no longer as good, for example, and they do this very much like a herd of antelope sensing approaching danger, and I believe that what I am observing here, the wimminz herd mentality at work, and some of the outliers at the periphery of the herd, in the more vulnerable positions, in the Internet Dating game, are smelling some smoke on the wind, and starting to adjust their priorities.

I think some of these wimminz are indeed sensing the changing economic and indeed technological, social and cultural times ahead, and adjusting their attitudes to ensure best chance of survival in the new emerging conditions, and the result of that is as described above.

I myself as an ex-FRA (False Rape Accused) am a poster boy for the MRA Red Pill dude, so like these skank ho wimminz that I am hooking up with on PoF, I am also an outlier at the edge of the male herd.

When sailing the ocean it is traditional to have a proper (male) wind speed and direction instrument, dampened and moderated, but it is also traditional to fly a (wimminz) long thin streamer from the masthead that shows every eddy and gust in the wind. Between the two you get a good picture of the weather around you…. not just if a storm is coming, but how it will arrive and how rough it is likely to be.

I’m kind of reminded of the smarter, older men around here, who ignore all long range weather forecasting, and who instead pay attention to things like fruiting berries in spring to predict the subsequent three seasons.

I believe that watching what the outliers wimminz are doing at any given time is as important as watching bank Libor rates and spot gold and Brent crude prices and so on and so forth, as many separate but connected and related indicators of the developing socio-economic climate that we find ourselves in.

It’s starting to be a good time to be a Man on the outliers of male society again, better than being in the safety and conformity of the male herd, who are going to become someone’s lunch.

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